Qióng Qiū Yuè;  

The journey to Klewyth is long and tiring. The boat ride itself is a journey and a half; the side-to-side wracking of the boat leaving him sick and near-bedridden in his cabin. He's lucky that the trip only takes a week - both for the sake of his stomach, and for the sake of the boat's passengers. The boat bore a special cabin, proofed just in case of such circumstances, but he hadn't exactly trusted the crew with what he was, so. He had also bought a special ring before boarding, but he didn't quite trust that, either. So he was counting his lucky stars now, that he hadn't even needed to worry in the first place.

They'd made land late in the evening, and had spent another night aboard the boat. Then, as soon as everyone had properly packed their belongings and ordered what needed to be ordered, they all went their separate ways. Qiūyuè included.

The town is dimly lit by the time he arrives. Few others walk the ragged streets, and some who do sway drunkenly to and fro'. Qiūyuè smiles at the sight of a particularly drunken man spewing some gibberish to himself, finding some small amusement in the other's deterioration into progressively nonsensical rambling. The presence of drunkards surely meant that of a tavern - a place to rest his weary bones, worn from travel.

And ah, yes - there. The sound of singing and laughing, emanating from a ramshackle wooden building to the left. Even with the  creature within him pushed back with the help of the mysterious ring, even with the rounded ears that usually grace the top of his head gone with the change, his senses are still enhanced enough to pick up the noise. Probably because the humans making it aren't trying to conceal themselves at all - they're loud, rowdy, and when Qiūyuè pushes open the door to the tavern, he can smell that they are all very, very drunk.

As they sing songs and make merry, some even drunkenly dancing, Qiūyuè and his calm, even demeanor stick out like a sore thumb. Thankfully, the patrons of the bar seem to be too preoccupied with their celebrations to notice him, and so he slips in relatively unscuffed. A barmaid weaves between the crowd, filling cups and bantering with the patrons, and she perks up when she notices him, seemingly relieved to gain another customer - and a sober one at that. She scuttles over to him with all the grace and agility of a woman used to such rowdy crowds, and Qiūyuè pastes on a smile as she approaches.

She's kind enough as she takes his simple order - whatever food she happens to have on hand, and no, he doesn't want any alcohol, just some water, thank you. He'd like to keep a steady mind in a new city, after all. When she returns his smile, it's strained, harried as she is by the night's festivities. She promises to get his food and drink to him soon, and hurries away to disappear behind the bar. This leaves the were to entertain himself, and he does so by glancing around the room, green gaze roving over each individual. A lazy smile curls at his lips as he leans against the bar, and when the barmaid returns, he turns to her.

"May I ask, xiǎo jie, what exactly is everyone celebrating tonight?"

She startles as she places his water down, nearly spilling the glass. She glances up at him with wide, blue eyes, a little surprised.

"You must be new here, huh?" She comments wryly, setting his food down next. It's some kind of meat and vegetables, though what kind, exactly, he can't parse from just a perfunctory glance. He nods as he pokes suspiciously at what appears to be the cooked wing of some type of bird, trying his hardest not to outright make a face at the pile of what passed as sustenance before him.

"Yes. That easy to tell?"

She nods in return, moving away and grabbing a rag to start wiping at the surface of the bar.

"It is when you don't even know of Yuletide. Did you just get to the continent?"

He nods again. Hopes, vaguely, that his status as a were isn't so easy to parse as his newness to the country is. He'd rather keep that under wraps for as long as he can - he's heard that Klewyth is the land of were's and vampires, but as a man who still hasn't fully come to terms with his own transformation, he'd like to have time to come to terms with it before having to face being treated as one. The barmaid seems to notice as he grows quiet, and leaves him to his thoughts, setting her rag down and lifting a pitcher of ale as a few men call out to her for refills. She gives him one last, lingering look before she's off, and Qiūyuè is left to himself once again.

He sighs as he turns his eyes back over the crowd. This 'Yuletide' thing seems to be pretty important. He wishes he could be as merry as these men - but so many things piled atop his shoulders, one after the other, weighing him down. It was a lot, at times... sometimes too much.

He was broken from his reverie by the sound of the door opening. A newcomer walks into the tavern, and heads straight for the bar. They settle in the seat next to him, and Qiūyuè can't help but to glance at them from the corner of his eye...
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