Draven fidgets with the frilly apron around his waist, carful not to catch the ruffles on his claws. Its not that he’s nervous, of course, that would be unlike him. It was just that it well… it was embarrassing. I mean look at him. This get up isn’t exactly cutting as an intimidating a figure as he usually does. But regardless, he was determined learn the art of mixology even if he was told that to do so he must wear … this.
“Hello there!” comes a cheerful voice from behind...
