Clay who was surprisingly agile for his size still stood dumbfound and empty handed in Anya’s vacancy. He watched the vial fall and shatter to the floor, the smell bringing forth that glimmer once again to his eyes. 
Another click echoed out and all life and emotion once again drained from Clays face and he began clumsily fumbling after Anya. 
Her whimpers caused a clear hinderence to his movementss.

[color=purple]”ENOUGH!”[/color]The woman looked dissatisfied as she rolled her eyes and sighed. 
[color=purple]”Ugh, little girl, come sit back down and have your drink.”[/color] 
She gestures to the seat beside herself before reaching over the bar and taking the challis by the lip of its edge, her fingers delicately lift it by the rim and she holds it out above the seat.

[color=purple]”Come dear, tell me about your journies.”[/color]
Her voice now deciptfully kind, caring, welcoming and alluring.