Anton's Shack

A short walk from a cluster of rowdier bars in the port’s center, a round shack stands on the beach. A few stools sit around the shack’s bar-top, in front of a stack of rum bottles and a large fresh-caught tuna hanging from a hook. Behind the counter, a tall grandi tiger flips a knife around his fingertips before knocking it several times against a wooden board. He cuts a block of fresh fish into bites, offering them to a patron. A bouncy chikitu woman whistles a tune while stirring a pot over a small fire.

The shack is off the beaten path, but has attracted a dozen patrons. The bartender knows everyone he speaks to, such as a gnarled tradewind fox on the far side. The atmosphere is relaxed in this little corner of the beach, but sharp eyes note that patrons still watch their belongings. Who's Here