Misguided turn of the tide it seemed that would draw her to the docks and to that seedy dock pub. The hollers and shouts, the hoots and exclaimations of the men far too deep in their cups brought a smile to her lips. The trademark sass of a fox's grin.

A bottle of whiskey and trouble was on her mind. The good old days could always be rewritten in the present day pages of her life. She missed those wildfire moments of mischief and mayhem.

Fleeting thoughts mused over Patch, over Argus and Devantious, over the self proclaimed Savior that had led her to fall for his crimes.

Lucky for her the tattooed sleeves at her flesh well would conceal the chafe mark of those binds that had held her in the prison. Magic wards.

The grin turned to a light smirk as she hailed the barkeep and ordered the usual bottle of whiskey and glass, eyes bright as she heard the shuffle of cards.

There was a tell tale smile then that could only mean trouble was brewing like a storm on the shoreline.

Oh yes it was.

Cutting her way through the stench and sweat of the dock workers and sea farers she paused before the gambler's table with a hand on her hip.

"Mind if ah cu' in? Ah've muhself ah cravin' fer ah game. Donna i' seem ah good idea... can ya fancy...ah game o' Chance?"

Oh the smile there as she nudged out a chair at their table to straddle, a lean against the back of it as she waited for the current game to finish as the men eyed her up like the next bonny lass to visit between their bed sheets or cot or hammock in the ship...

Her laughter was a carefree, devilish thing. Gods but it felt good to be in old, bad habits.