She set the mug down on the unsteady surface of the wooden table, accepting a tip before beginning to walk away, brushing the creases out of her tavern dress as she stepped. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a few more potential costumers make their way into the bar, most of them swaying something terrible from far too much drink. And then something caught Isabel's attention. It was a woman, that much was apparent from the honey colored tresses of hair that cascaded around her shoulders. She was dressed in men's garb, a loose white shirt and a pair of dark breeches. But if that alone wasn't enough to catch her attention, it was definitely the way the woman carried herself. Her step was dignified, her chin raised ever so slightly in an almost prideful gesture.
This was no lady pirate. This was definitely not a whore. So who was she?
Isabel bit her bottom lip when she noticed that many of the men, those who weren't already passed out or in the company of one of the whores anyway, where sending lewd stares the woman's way. A group of sailors further off were eyeing her in a most uncomfortable manner, whispering and grinning amongst themselves. Whoever she was, Isabel didn't imagine that she'd be a lass who'd ever been subject to these kinds of men before.
After a moments' hesitation, she walked over to her in the most unobtrusive manner she could, seeing as the lady seemed quite disoriented, an apprehensive look on her face.
"Ye alright, miss?" she asked rather loudly in an effort to be heard above all of the ruckus. "Ye're not from here, are you?"