Two hours later, Rex found himself sitting alone in a corner booth. As for his dining companion…
"I am telling you. The old country no longer has such a good brew." She told the group of leprechauns while leaning on the bar with a large wooden tankard.
She spoke in a throaty Irish Gaelic to the eager faces, causing a fascination in the eyes of the creatures. Unlike what the folktales had become, leprechauns and their relations were not small fairy-like men walking around with a pot of gold.
They were not exceptionally tall, but their height was average for most populations.
"We are vexed to hear of this. We have not gotten first-hand news about the old country for many years. Most visitors are from nearby countries." One leprechaun lamented.
Aisling lifted the huge tankard and drunk deep. The wooden jar almost covered her entire face, making Abaddon laugh a little. She slammed down the tankard on the bar.
