It was a busy evening at the tavern, but not in a overwhelming way. Ryder was at his usual spot behind the bar, polishing a whiskey glass with a towel as his eyes lazily drifted over the people that were gathered in the room. His gaze then snapped back over to you as he tilted his head, resting his elbows against the counter as he chuckled lowly. “Nice night, huh? Not very busy tonight…that’s a relief. My back is killing me.”
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