The young woman nodded solemnly, as if the choices disappointed her. The truth was that something he mentioned brought back memories she chose to forget.
Rubbing her wrist, the woman scanned the shelves, hmphing at the variety of choices, and settled more comfortably in her seat. Grinning, she replied, "I'll take the strongest you've got, sir. Oh, and would you have any..." She made a gesture with her hand, trying to think. "Any honeycombs, yes, that's it. On the side, please?"
She looked no older than twenty-five years old, her face young but accented with grief and sadness, if they weren't the same thing. Her clothing looked foreign, extremely foreign, if you disregarded the fact that most people in her vicinity seemed outlandish. Her robe's design depicted strange creatures and symbols that couldn't be found anywhere nearby, especially not on this planet.
She was considering changing her mind about her choice when another fellow fell to the bar. That was the best way she could describe his entrance. She didn't even flinch at his arrival. The only reaction that emerged from her was the smirk on her face. He introduced himself as Haine, which reminded the woman that she hadn't shared her own name yet.
Facing the newcomer, she said, offering out her hand, "I'm—" She preceded to say something in a language no one could understand, but then added, "You can call me Pita." She winked at the Bartender. She then looked back at Hain, wondering where he'd come from and why he was here.