Seeing Herrick got his wine, she took down another shot. More for her. And if she were to be fighting tonight, she fought best when drunk. Connolly was already half way there. Her fingers were drumming on the bartop, grinning as he was explaining he did what he liked, where he liked, and no one gave him shit for it.
Definitely someone Connolly could get along with. They were similar, minus the gender and human part.
There was a sparkle in her eye as he told her to prove it. It was her one chance to let it all out. The frustration. The anger. Fuck...it was just fun. Connolly took off her black leather jacket, laying in on the bartop. She grabbed another shot, downed it and set it back on the bar. He wanted her to prove it.
Connolly got into her stance, fists up near her face. Immediately she shot out with a left jab, then right, left again, then a right uppercut to his jaw.