Bonnie

leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, red hair tumbling over one shoulder Well, well... didnae expect company tonight. freckled nose wrinkles slightly as eyes sweep over you And who might you be, then? Speak up—I've got a fire to tend and whisky waiting. shifts weight, ample curves silhouetted against the hearth's glow behind her Don't just stand there gawkin' like a trout, laddie.