"Where's Charon today?"
Ahzrukhal shrugged half-heartedly, while a small smile played at his lips. He dug his fingers into the counter and bit his tongue—hard—before finally explaining, "I figure I can keep him happier if I give him a day off every once in awhile." One of his remaining fingernails cracked down the center as he dug harder into the bar. The patron on the other side gave Azhrukhal a look before shrugging off the odd behavior.
"I would have thought you'd be afraid to be mugged for your stock."
"It's a slow day," Ahzrukhal quipped, while inwardly struggling to continue standing up straight. "You planning on buying anything?" His knees quaked and he gripped the counter harder to keep himself steady.
"No, not tonight—."
Ahzrukhal growled. "Then get already!"
As soon as the patron was gone, and Ahzrukhal knew The Ninth Circle was empty, he leaned heavily on the bar, eyes closed, and simply breathed.
"Charon," Ahzrukhal murmured, one of his hands slipping below the counter to pat his contracted Ghoul on the head, "I just want you to know that I think I'm going to give you days off more often."