Eilidh stepped back onto the carriage, careful with her musket as she stuffed it along the side of the wagon, avoiding Ariella's inquirous glance as she noticed the woman's annoyance, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to see Finn's handiwork by how irate you look."

"Surprisingly, no, it wasn't him," Eilidh sighed, throwing herself into her seat beside Córu, who leaned forward, examining the kintsugi design at the end of the firearm with awe, "If that thing starts speaking, though, you'll tell me, right?"

Ariella's face fell into one of confusion, leaving Eilidh to roll her eyes, "Exactly. Now, where to next?"

"Well, Córu and I-" she winked at the selkie at the mention of her nickname, "-discussed a few tentative plans for the evening. I offered her some suggestions that ought to benefit her, should she, indeed, be getting some general education on the lifestyle."

Eilidh's brow fell into a wary stance.

"I figured, while we pick up Skyla, we introduce Córu to her alehouse, then make for Castlegreen so she can see that, probably Levengrove and see see if they've got something going on tonight down there, the usual Dumbarton venues."

Pensive in her consideration, Eilidh sighed, leaning forward to examine Córu’s face which had spun into something mischievous, "Surely she was aware that was meant to be more on the educational side?"

Córu shrugged, "That could have been communicated better, I suppose."

"Well, I suppose I'll take the blame on that one," Eilidh fell back into her seat, a wry smirk appearing there as she admitted, "If there is one thing to learn, properly, it's that if there's one person to follow on a night through the town, it's probably Ariella - that is, unless motherhood has dulled her senses somewhat."

"Oh, please, darling; I've already sent for Fergus to watch the children this evening," Ariella's lips nearly toiled under the weight of her excited grin, "It's only but a matter of whether or not you single women can keep up with me."

Eilidh turned toward Córu, "If you're not scared, you should be."

The selkie's brow dipped low, only now worried where she hadn't been, earlier.

~~~

Skyla's rigid shoulders slumped only just as she stepped outside the alehouse, head tilted in an attempt to show her puzzled state. A carriage lazily pulled along by a horse, coming to a stop nearby in front of the woman's business, with its door swinging open soon after. It was only after Ariella's face emerged, and Eilidh's beneath it, that Skyla's posture resumed its typically roughhewn stance.

"Why am I not surprised," was her low utterance, "I thought the Kilton Boys had forgotten a cask again."

Ariella shook her head, "Oh, gods no, we're not stupid enough to pull a fast one on you like that. Though, I suppose we are-"

"We're essentially asking for free booze, yes," Eilidh shrugged, earning her a pithy stare, "For a good cause, of course."

Skyla's wide frown said all the two women needed to know about her opinion on the matter, forcing Eilidh to disappear back into the carriage, leaving Ariella alone until an unknown woman popped out through the door, causing Skyla's intrigue to line her expression.

"Who's this?"

The stranger bowed her head, "C- Córustrea."

Nodding, Skyla muttered, "So, which one of them is trying to get you in bed?"

"I- I beg your pardon?!"

Ariella's teeth shone with worry as Eilidh's voice shouted from deeper within the carriage, "Sky! Don't terrorize the poor woman! I swear to all the gods of the land!"

Smirking only just, Skyla shrugged with a single shoulder as she submitted, "I meet all of their new friends, and I've not seen you before, so you're new, and they're bringing you to get drunk, first thing. I don't know what else to assume."

"First of all!" Eilidh squeezed past the two women, stepping out of the carriage, "We're not here to get drunk! We're here to collect your prissy ass. I just figured Córu might like to see your little operation here, maybe procure a bottle or two for later to make a good impression at Levengrove when we arrive..."

Skyla's face tensed, "Levengrove?" She eyed Ariella. "Her?"

"She's the one who suggested it."

"Well I'll be god damned. She has children."

Ariella rolled her eyes, "Oh, for the love of- You two seriously think that a couple of children and a husband would put a hitch in my giddy up?"

"It sounds like we're about to find out," Skyla's face curled with a minute twinge of worry, a look wholly foreign to Eilidh, "Perhaps I ought to get the not-so-aged stuff."

A growl from the matriarch, "Oh, you-" Ariella leapt off of the carriage, waving at Córu to follow. "Come on, now. You two, as well!" She stomped toward the entrance to the alehouse. "I'm not about to get halted by the bruisers by not having Skyla at my side."

"Like that would stop her," Skyla grinned, shooting a wry glance toward Eilidh, who retorted with a worrisome look for her own part, the alewoman speaking up so Ariella could hear, "She won't do it, Eilidh!"

Eilidh tugged at the woman's arm, "Quit goading her on."

"I assume she's sent for the Lord Fergus to watch the kids tonight?"

Her brow fallen, Eilidh failed to reply, leaving Córu to answer for her, "She has, actually."

"Excellent!" Skyla smirked, "Let's see how far she's wanting to go."

Eilidh groaned, "Oh, gods..." She turned to Coru. "We said she was the leader, not that she was a particularly good one- or a sober one..."

"You've told her about the Westenders?!" Skyla wondered, "Is that what this evening is?"

"No!"

Skyla thought aloud, "I'm gonna need more bottles..."

The three followed Ariella into Skyla's office, where the particularly valuable - and open - bottles were kept. She reached beneath the desk where Skyla spent much of her time, grabbing the oldest bottle and slamming it atop the desk.

"Well?" she asked.

Skyla shrugged, "I'll end my sobriety for the Westenders. It was really only 'cause it looked bad to be drinking my own product."

Grumbling, Eilidh shook her head, "I only drink the weaker stuff." She turned to Coru. "If coffee is too strong, this is probably a bit too much, as well."

"Just a bit?" Skyla muttered wryly.

Ariella grabbed three glasses and another bottle of markedly younger vintage, setting about pouring three shots worth of whiskey before setting them aside and sliding two of the cups to their respective women before collecting her own, raising it to her nose for a whiff.

"Oh, gods-" she coughed, "Perhaps I misjudged..."

Skyla winked at her, raising her own glass, "You can chicken out if you'd like. I'd love your shot, as well."

"Oh, you'd love to hold that over me for, what, forty years?" Ariella rolled her eyes, "You'd have to summon King Arthur to pull this glass from my hand."

Ariella's attention tugged to the side, noticing Córu’s expectant gaze, "You want in on this?"

"I-" the selkie stammered for a moment, "I mean-"

Eilidh smirked, "How about a gin? Nice and floral."

Her eyes flashing toward Eilidh with all the trust she had to muster, Córu nodded, allowing a smile, "O- Okay."

"Perfect. All the women involved; I like it," Ariella reached beneath the desk once again, griping aloud as she did so, "Fuck, for a sober woman, you sure do have-"

"Shut up; I don't want to hear it," Skyla frowned, noticing Eilidh's eyes on her, "It was nice to know they were there."

Another glass making an appearance, Ariella splashed a shot of gin before sliding it toward Córu, completing the set of three spirits for the four women, all of whom raised their glasses.

"I don't smell much of anything..." Córu whispered to Eilidh.

A grin met her as Eilidh leaned closer, "Just- throw it down and think of Scáthach."

"What?!"

Ariella pounded the table with her free hand, "Alright, one! Two! Three!"

The Westenders all threw their glasses up and their whiskey down, though Córu was a bit slow on the uptake, she followed quickly behind, the liquor burning her throat and allowing only just the faintest tint of floral note for her to deduce behind the massive, pungent wave of alcohol coursing throughout her sinuses and out her nose. She leaned forward, immediately coughing as Eilidh reached over to pat her back, fighting back a cough herself as her voice came out like a anchor.

"Oh, fuck!" she complained, "It's been to long, even for that."

She turned to the other two, both Ariella and Skyla wielding straight faces as they fought to keep from breaking, only for a single tear to fall from Ariella's eyes forcing her to gasp for a breath, coughing and keeling over.

"Ha ha!" Skyla burst out laughing for only a moment before losing herself to a coughing fit of her own, "Shit, that's stronger than I remember it!"

Córu heaved forward, turning her eyes up to the others, "You subject yourselves to this willingly?!"

"Well, we were stupid when we were younger," Eilidh managed, her breath, and voice, still straining under the weight of her coughing, "Now, it's- I guess not much has changed."

Skyla shook her head, composing herself, "Speak for yourself. Once you get used to it, and you start to get the little nuances therein, it actually becomes nice. I didn't become an alemaster because just anybody can formulate alcohol and sell it; we'd all be millionaires." She slammed the glass atop the desk, after which the other Westenders followed, compelling her to glance at Córu. "As the last to break, I sit my glass down first, then you all follow."

"Oh," Córu nodded, the taste of alcohol still forcing her face a twinge of disgust, though she still slammed her glass onto the desk with an even greater force than the others, which caused a rather wide smile from Ariella.

"I think you've got some competition, Sky."

Skyla shrugged, "I don't expect much until she can hold her whiskey. Not that we'll find that out tonight." She waved the bottles away, which Ariella returned to their place below, Córu’s curious glance causing Eilidh to explain aloud.

"We only begin the night with shots, then we quit. No point in forgetting the night ahead, eh?" she opined simply, shrugging, "Though, that depends. Some nights, the rule changes."

Ariella went on, "Depending on the setting, the men- the women."

A blush caused Córu to turn her head as slightly as she thought she might could get away with, thankful that the others continued their reverie until leaving. She followed behind, the thought pressed to the forefront of her mind that, at some point in the past, at least one of these women - the Westenders - were out on these nights in search of fun, in search of this disgusting liquor, in search of men- and of women. Her eyes flashed, as they'd done all week, toward Eilidh, catching her hair break over her shoulder in the darkness of the alehouse, finding the smallest nape of neck beneath, the most beautiful swatch of skin she had been sure she'd ever be able to see, all within sight of that face, and those piercing eyes.

Were she a human - and not a selkie - might she be one of those women that Eilidh pursued on a night like this? Surely not… She'd been told, already.