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"I'ah e'h tr'eh a'hn'a'thig," chimed in Watts before cleaning off a few glasses and ordering several dwarves to ask if the other two customers had any orders. They were all standing around and that just wouldn't do.

The young man's eyes lit up again in that peculiar way as Owle spoke. But he said nothing at the moment as he took a few swigs of his drink. He had never had one of these before, and he had always wanted to try one.

So I'm on to something, then.

After that first taste, he was surprised his nose wasn't bleeding - it packed quite a punch. Still, he kept on his feet before putting the glass down and pulling out a chair for Owle like any gentleman would, before taking a seat himself. He shifted the glass playfully from hand to hand, taking a small sip now and then. It didn't seem to be bothering him that the steaming, bubbling liquid should be burning his skin if it could so easily eat through metal.

"I'd be remiss to not offer such a kind young lady a drink. Just name what it is; price is not to be taken into consideration." He smiled innocently, using one arm to lean on the table a bit so that he could adjust his seating to face Owle a bit more. "So you and Rage are... siblings? I only ask because I don't remember him having any."

Meanwhile the dwarves were scurrying around D' and Cheshire. "Anything for you to eat or drink? At the Firebrand we do it all, just pick your poison and your price!" They were very convincing, or at least they felt they were.

Gratefully, Owle collapsed into the chair she was offered.

"Um...how about a virgin strawberry daquiri?" Owle suggested. She hadn't had one of those in forever - it always seemed too much trouble to mix for herself. But if he was paying for it, and the dwarves were making it...

Then Owle blinked in surprise, and sat straight upright, staring at the kind gentleman. "You're a friend of Rage! Why didn't you say so?"

She tugged on a strand of her own disorderly blue hair. "Well, um, we're not actually related. Biologically, I mean, you could test our blood till the world stops spinning and you wouldn't find an ounce of similarity aside from the fact that we both have human in our blood somewhere. But..."

For a moment she paused, at a loss for words. "I guess you could say we've adopted each other. Rage looks after me, like a big brother, and I try to do what I can for him in return. He took to calling me his little sister, and I my big brother, so..."

Owle let the sentence hang in the air, an uncertain smile on her face. She had no idea how one of Rage's old friends might react to this news.

The dwarves headed off to fill their respective orders (Watts could be heard yelling for them to "put some hustle into it" in the background); for D', orange and strawberry juice poured over crushed ice complete with an umbrella stuck in the lemon wedge on top, and for Owle a virgin strawberry daquiri... that also had a lemon wedge with an umbrella stuck in it. Well, at least the dwarves were trying.

By the time Owle had finished speaking, her drink was slid in front of her.

"Oh, no, no," said the man, waving a hand in front of him to correct the woman. "I don't think it odd at all." He quickly pulled out his wallet (attached to his pocket by a chain) and gave the dwarf several gold notes. "For future drinks, shall we say." His gaze quickly fell back on Owle as his wallet disappeared into his squeaky pocket. "You see, my name is Slash, nice to meet you, and my father was the brother of Kaldarak, who is Rage's father... which makes him my cousin."

He drew a neat square outline in the air to illustrate his point. "So, you'll imagine my surprise to know that I had another cousin, you see."

"It's black." It was hanging to her side, folded so she could sit properly. She didn't think much of it, just as much as one doesn't think too might of their hands or feet unless they're in danger or something. Just another body part she happened to have. The only really special thing about it was it was what could be considered slightly abnormal in its length to humans and the normal catgirls, though all of those who had her species type had the same.

"What, no you can't touch it OR hurt it. If you're going to be like that, just stay away from my tail..." It lifted and folded in her lap as she reached for her fruity drink. It was good.

"He hasn't been that bad..." Owle protested, unable to say he'd been completely good, either. At least, he'd been gone so long she had no idea what he was up to the times she didn't see him around. "Well, at least since I've known him. I heard he was a troublemaker in the past, but..." She shrugged. "Weren't we all?"

For lack of anything better to do, she wiped some of the moisture off the outside of her glass while she tiredly looked around the bar. Rage wasn't here, now, as far as she knew...and she had too much respect for him to go tracking him down. She knew, somehow, that even if he were in trouble he wouldn't want her rushing out to save him.

"Stranger things have happened."

He seemed to be at a loss for words, although the clatter of his helmet against the floor (previously in the possession of Cheshire) caught his attention. "I suppose I should be taking this back before another odd patron decides to claim it," he said as he stood from his chair.