Arialla watched the bartender pour her drink with something akin to fascination, a smile touching her lips. Whatever the mamajuana tasted like, it certainly looked good. She took the glass and raised it, though the toast gave her a bit of a pause.
"To LongNight," she did say, clinking her glass with Raza's, though there was a wry note in her voice. LongNight was her least favorite time of year, after all; no endless party could make up for the lack of a sun in the sky, not in Arialla's. She wasn't much of a partier.
The obligatory toast made, Arialla took a sip of the drink -- not a huge gulp, but she didn't want to offend the bartender by being overly cautious, either.
please don't take my sunshine away
