#Couldn't think of a good fishermany title oh well

[riosnecktattoo]

The pebbles crunch and shift under his boots. Still wet from this morning’s rain. Rio slides a little, unsteady on the slick stones and less certain on his feet after a few beers. The tavern door swings to a shut behind him. The heavy wood bouncing and the deep orange light of the fire glowing from the hearth in the corner bursts through the dirty oval glass at the door’s centre.

He can still make out Mick’s booming laugh from out here, and it’s followed by someone deciding to bring the old piano to life. A messy shanty starts playing, and the regulars start singing. Applause and cheers are scattered among the lyrics and Rio can’t help but turn to look through the glass. It sounds like a raucous, faster version of ‘Leave Her Johnny!’ and he smiles. He always liked that one.