The days had grown dark, and in that dimness, she had taken refuge of late. She used it to escape the suffocating confines of her home. It was a place that was becoming too overbearing. Too stifling and controlling. The news of her intended marriage had also refused to settle well upon her nerves either. Just the thought had her once more upset, seeking escape from the horrid concept. Why bring her back only to sell her?  She loathed the concept.  She had oiled the window well in her other times of escape, and on this evening, it offered no resistance as she pushed it open. The space was just barely large enough for her to slip through it and onto the sloping roof of the manner, barren feet abnormally clothed in boots. The cold seemed utterly foreign to her and the slightest breeze was enough to rip the breath from her in emphasis. Another inkling that wandered into her musings that she simply did not belong here.  Her fingertips were rigid with winter's blight as she gripped the shingles tightly to drop from the eave and onto the ground. The grass she loved was buried under the ice and snow, adding a lively crunch to each of her footfalls. The sound changed after she made her way to the walkway next to the normally busy street. In the dead of night, however, it was quite empty. She was unsure if she would keep walking, if she would just continue trekking, run away, leave this horrid place behind. Was that what had happened to begin with? Had she found out her horrid fate and sought to escape it only to be drug right back into the lion's den?  Before she knew it, the cold was beginning to claim her entirely and the first rays of the rising sun were beginning to stretch out across the skies. But they offered no warmth. A feeling she was becoming all too familiar with.

Jahi

Phrases echoed on repeat over the plans made, a twinge of hesitancy rising if only because of the hour one wished for this ‘favor’ to be returned. Midnight rendezvous hardly bode well over the years but it couldn’t be anything new. Just get this over and done with. If this is all it took for one more annoyance to be out of his hair then so be it. The goat could do this one thing. It’s what he did after all - got paid to take on another’s tasks - or rather it’s what one deemed himself capable of outside the suffocating chains of nobility.

A noose felt to constrict ever tighter with each word which escaped his father’s lips. Reminders of family duty, what carrying the old blood entailed, obligations continuously placed by no other than he. While Valerius may see titles and standing as a privilege… this blood was nothing but a prison. One Augustus sought escape from in the only ways he knew how. Defamation. Indulgences. Anything to spark the same bitterness he tasted upon that man’s tongue. Hateful tones made which nerves to strike painfully obvious and if that is what he so despised it was an effortless indulgence. And one so easily showcased, flaunted in the public eye.

In a way, Augustus thrived off his disapproval. Satisfaction found in knowing he was something a father would never accept. That this is what others gossiped over within such social circles. Oh, he’d make a name known all right. Maybe then a leash would finally be untethered, a collar no longer restricting. A hound released. After all, who wanted to be known for raising a disappointment? A disgrace who dallied with commoners, one who held little regard in way of ‘unsavory’ displays. Certainly not Monsieur Lyon. Though unlike he, those toyed with hardly found room for complaints. Some a bit over eager to take up an offerance of flirtation.

Yet there was always one he hoped to keep this from. No matter his impulses the goat was careful never to bring any of those passing flings back to the estate. There were places to hide from wandering eyes at the price of added risk, there were other manors to indulge oneself within. But Juliet would be fated with nothing more than hearing of whispered rumors. However, he prayed even those may never find her, it wasn’t she he sought to embarrass or scorn.

Softened sigh fled his lips at the thought. Would she be disappointed if she knew? Would the same venom which scorched Valerius’ tongue find her own? Such harshness he’d never seen rise from the girl though there honestly wasn’t much he had witnessed break through that silent exterior. No matter what may stew beneath the surface, they were secrets never share. Just as his own were kept safely tucked away from her, she hid her own ever more.

For a moment then he stalled. There was still time to reconsider this, to tell another something else had come up and whatever was desired would be discussed at another time. But as a mind warred with no other but himself there came further distraction. The steady beat of steps against snowy cobbles, a delicate crunch which pulled ears to listen. It was rather odd to see another out before the light of day could illuminate the streets with a beacon of safety. Even a passing glance over the area a telling sign of this as doors and windows lay shut. Hardly a soul had risen.

Was she some wandering vagabond? A street urchin simply returning to what was known as home? In truth it didn’t matter. One thing was clear from just gazing upon her, just as it had scorned another moons ago the biting chill of these lands did her no favors. An unmistakable flush discoloring her cheeks, that noticeable shiver rippling along a frame barely adorned for winter’s deathly grasps. It wasn’t in his nature to ignore this. Whatever a previous task may have entailed this night it could wait a little longer and with a mind made rosen stare fixated upon her.

Steps falling short of her own forged path as there was but a moment of consideration. If she truly was unfamiliar with the streets of Odersten there was no harm in offering a bit of guidance. Direction to where she could warm up and grab a quick meal before continuing on an unknown journey. The worse she could say was no. Unless of course she was a thief, then this could end a bit more harshly than just a simply denial but for now he would hope for the best. Assume that he wasn’t about to have a blade at his throat.

The goat makes no efforts to hide an address, pointed phrase made toward the only other sensed upon the streets. “Afraid the shops don’t tend to open until about mid-morning. Might be a bit before anyone comes to set up.” Though he never came this way until afternoon, the exact times were unknown, “Were you trying to find something?” ‘You look lost,’ as if the sheer cold hoped to freeze her where she stood.

A WREATH OF THORNS ADORNS THE DOOR

Her thoughts were elsewhere, anywhere but here in the abysmal chill that nipped at her even through the thick furs that cloaked her shoulders. Her mind had wandered back to the ship that bore her here from across the sea, to the comforting creak and groan of the futtock as the waves brushed against the hull. It had been calming, a blissful ride, a paradise compared to living on the sand bitten streets. The days had been hot, miserable. The nights were frigid, yet without the lack of powdered white that dappled these ones. She thought she had been found, that she was returning home. That her ordeals and tribulations would be over. She could still recall the immense confusion she had felt as her mother had held her face within her hands and spoke to her in a language she could only barely understand a scattered word of. How she had smiled as the word home kept creeping across her tongue. Home. A place she couldn't remember but knew she longed for terribly.

Home.

A bittersweet sentiment now. One that felt more like a prison. It made her actually miss those filthy roads she sat at the side of. In comparison to this gilded cage and all its restrictive chains, that place offered whispers of freedom. Where her will could be her own, from the way she dressed and behaved to who it was she would spend the remainder of her life with. None would care there. She may have been nothing there, a worthless vagabond doomed to starvation and withering, but she would have been without what her mother had called familial duty. Death may have come, but it wouldn't find her an old woman, gray, aged and going blind from staring out a window all day. Watching the people unbound, becoming jealous of them. Telling the hours of the days forever by their comings and goings while she was kept under lock and key like her home was some ivory tower.

Her heart began to skip - to race. What was keeping her here? She had already slipped the watch of Aethelos. A thing she assumed to be a brittle thread if only to keep the complacency of their father. Peace of mind he had said. What peace of mind to him would it be should she be murdered or not? Married or not? Present or not? It wouldn't be. The notion had her numbed fingers coiling into the dense fabric of the gown she'd donned, pulling her hooded shawl tighter. She would leave, a course of action she assumed she had taken before. There were no kidnappers, were there? No sickness. No, her body was far too healthy even after the weeks, perhaps even months of starvation she had faced in that coastal city to belong to some sickly frail wilting flower. She had run away. She had chosen to leave this life behind and be free. Something had happened though, something she could not recall. She would repeat it. She would vanish into the breaking day, but this time she would not be taken back into custody.

“Afraid the shops don’t tend to open until about mid-morning. Might be a bit before anyone comes to set up.” She nearly swallowed her tongue as she gasped audibly, followed by a slight cough at the influx of frigid air. She whirled, boots nearly tripping over one another before she caught herself. Her face flushed as she looked upon the face of the one who had addressed her. A slight smile crossed her lips as her cheeks further burned, pale eyes turning downward. "F-forgive me. I-I must look f-foolish." Was it lost she looked? Lost, confused? Neither a wholly wrong description. “Were you trying to find something?” She bit the inside of her cheek slightly, vision returning to his face as she searched his countenance for a brief moment. "N-no. Not part-ticularly." She would pause, her mouth opening before closing, debating her next words somewhat carefully before simply settling on. "I'm just l-leaving." The words were just above a whisper regardless.

!

NO ONE COMES HOME ANYMORE

There came a twinge of guilt upon hearing the way she gasped, had she not heard his approach? It wasn’t exactly something he had tried very hard to hide… perhaps she had simply not anticipated address. Held onto the notion that even should another soul be wandering these illuminated streets that they would not beckon for her focus. That none would bother her this night. Yet he had done just that.

Elongate ears swiveled back, nearly pressing to his skull as lips parted thinnking to offer apology for startling here only to be silenced. An askance for forgiveness slipping free upon breathless whisper and filling the spaces between them. Pale gaze turning away in a manner one could only read as shame. Mouth would fall closed as mark of question laced rosen hues, a moment to consider her words before lyrics fell in softened murmur, “There is nothing to forgive.” Assurance. Something that is perhaps unneeded and yet it rises without thought.

Hell, he was out here too. Maybe they were both foolish.

Though as those eyes return she offers more. No she wasn’t really looking for anything, she was just leaving. “Oh?” Had she come all this way for nothing? Doubtful. Yet it is hardly his place to press the subject. Whatever business she held out here was not his own though such thoughts do little to halt a wagging tongue, “Have somewhere to be? The markets may not be open but there are plenty of all nighters to duck into, most don’t mind if it’s just to warm up for a bit.” Pointed glance drifting to the frigid way she stood, how fingers fought for warmth in the fur of cloth. Everything about her visage making it clear that winter's chill nipped far too harshly.

A WREATH OF THORNS ADORNS THE DOOR

“There is nothing to forgive.” His voice was soft when he spoke, a far cry from the loud and harsh barking at the Beleveron manner. Her father was almost always red faced with spittle eking through his clenched teeth when he scolded her. Her mother, while her face retained civility, was no kinder when she spoke out of line. When she objected to things. That's just the way things are was an impassable wall. Like a wave hitting against the coastal cliffs. And while her tutor seemed to be a nice woman, years of teaching seemed to have been unkind to her voice as well. She often sounded like a squawking bird. She felt her shoulders relax slightly, a genuine smile blooming gently along her cold bitten lips.

“Have somewhere to be? The markets may not be open but there are plenty of all nighters to duck into, most don’t mind if it’s just to warm up for a bit.” No, she didn't suppose she had any place in particular to be. No clear idea of where her feet would take her from here. Part of her wanted to go back to where they had found her. She felt as though she had a clearer mind, a chance at a better life there now. She could search there for the answers she felt she so desperately craved.

However, in the meantime, she was quite frigid, and the thought of warming up somewhere was indeed quite appealing. "A warm place would be ap-preciated." She murmured, offering a nod of thanks, though her cheeks would stain a further pink. "W-would you be so k-kind as to guide me to o-one? I-I'm afraid I d-don't know my way ar-round much." Oh, to even have a basic idea of her surroundings would be a boon to her. A thought that already had her debating her choice to run while she could, while she evaded the close watch of her brother. She certainly didn't want to owe any of them an explanation for her whereabouts - or potentially bring this stranger into the monotony of her family's sordid affairs. She had to make up her mind: leave, or stay. To the world, it made little difference, but to her, it could mean the world.

!

NO ONE COMES HOME ANYMORE

It was hard not to notice the gentle curl of her lips, no longer a mark of surprise to spoil them but instead a passing since of peace. Only time would tell if such a thing would remain. Though it would not be he who sought to spoil a good mood as suggestion lay offered. Intention held to guide her to such a locale if it was required though he would make no assumptions, would not implore her to stay if she truly wished to continue wandering these empty streets.

Upon acceptance it was his turn to smile, a warmth behind it as he subdued the silent chuckle that wished to rise at the embarrassment of asking for a guide. “It would be a pleasure,” it wasn’t his first time serving as a guide dog, “Was just heading to one myself.” A blatant lie and yet it did not shine upon those features nor in the way words fell from his tongue. She didn’t need to know the truth. As long as a previous contact did not come looking for him than such engagements could be skipped out on. Excuses made when the time came and one asked of his absence.

For now all focus lay upon another. The flourish of an arm nearly offered before stopping himself short as twinge of pain resounded from the depths of marked shoulder, swiftly halted such a gesture. Okay then… none of that. Yet Augustus was content to linger at her side, to keep a careful pace and refrain from walking too quickly out in front. There was no need to rush, no need for attachment nor the assurance that a figure would not be swept away in the crowds for there were none to fear at this hour. More than enough space provided for each upon the snowy cobbles with nothing but a few straggling souls shifting between their roosts.

Nothing more than an occasional glance needed to ensure she trailed at his side and did not leave him talking with the wind. “If you don’t mind me asking, are you new around here?” Her physical appearance not entirely uncommon with the flowing locks of blonde hair and brightness of pale eyes, though hers had never been beheld before this night. Leaving the goat to wonder if she came from distant city or perhaps the lands over like so many before her. “Don’t recall seeing you around before,” an offhand comment hoping to show he meant no ill will if she truly was a foreigner to these lands.

Though even as he awaited her answer, attentions would flicker to the soft illumination which danced in the church’s windows. Passing shadow of one within temporarily blotting out the light even as their door did not creak open. Yet such a building is passed by. He would not pawn her off on them, agreement for guidance had already fled his lips so might as well bring her somewhere he enjoyed. Hardly was he in the mood to hear the naggings of the sister’s nor their views of a life lived in their proclaimed sins. No. He would not speak with them tonight.

Instead those paces would pause before a structure with far boisterous tones echoing within. An exquisitely carved sign of wood, shaped after the fiery bird the establishment was named for. Firewater Phoenix. Tavern and Inn. Glancing upon it the goat could only hope Fiero did not tend the bar this night to make any crude remarks. Nothing but a silent prayer for someone less familiar with his antics to serve as the tavern’s face. “Stick close. You can pick the seating,” while he would normally drift directly to the counter to find a perch he would allow another to find where she was more comfortable. “Specials are listed behind the keeper. If nothing catches your eye just ask over whatever you want,” or see if one would provide a full menu and allow a chance to think, “Order whatever you like.” And even if she held coin, this would be on him.

A WREATH OF THORNS ADORNS THE DOOR

“It would be a pleasure,” His smile was just as warm as the invitation and it's promise of comfort. Remembering her teachings in the ways of niceties, she would offer him a prim curtsy. Her smile becoming more comfortable as she relinquished an appreciative hum in concurrence with his dismissal of any trouble. “Was just heading to one myself.” She would relax from her cordial bow, regardless of how it had been a slight one to begin with. "Then I-I suppose I caught you just at the r-right time."

She would wait for him, her expression unfading as he fell in stride by her. He seemed at first as though he was going to say something, a motion of his arm given, and yet it was shortly retracted as if perhaps he thought better. It was a sentiment she thought little about, not minding, or finding the offer of his guide to be at any manner of fault. Rather, it would give her a better sense of where she was and the things that surrounded her. It would give building's faces and names, the words she struggled to read still giving at least features she'd have otherwise never known. Peculiar were some of their titles, the way they hung shaped signs over the eaves of their doorways to rock and creak with the soft whisper of the wind. Some of them, her mind would offer understanding, weither it be by the carved and painted letters or the shapes themselves. There was one marked by the phial of a tonic brew. Some were announced by leaves and flowers, the scent of their wares sealing the speculation of what lay within.

His words, however, would briefly distract her from her observations. From the beginnings of her plan for freedom. “If you don’t mind me asking, are you new around here?” She turned her attention fully back onto her companion, her crown tilting as she pondered the proper way to answer the inquiry. Though she held her doubts he truly wished to dig so deep as to her speculations that she did not belong. “Don’t recall seeing you around before,” that would give her the best result, she supposed. "I've lived here all my life." The words came, a bitter lie that she was none the wiser of. To her, this was the gospel, for why would a mother and father lie to their daughter? "I've been s-sick ever since I was young." The simper that touched her face was but an echo of her prior one, of the true girl beneath the guise. "I-I probably shouldn't even be out now."

She didn't want to be any trouble, a stumble in her plotting. She didn't want to cause her family grief. If they would truly look for her like mad after her departure as they claimed they had when she had been kidnapped, she didn't want to be willingly responsible for their dreadful worry. Least of all, she didn't want her escapism to cause trouble for her brother either, regardless of their jagged reunion and his malicious cruelty. She understood that she had very apparently had a sordid past - one she wanted to right, not further wrong. Oh, to only run off waving the family banner and name in war instead of the battlefields of political marriage. That's just the way things are was not a suitable reason to her to be sold. Filling the family coffers when they had so much in blatant and gross excess made just as much sense to her.

“Stick close. You can pick the seating,” he would once again draw her to the present from which she had unintentionally drifted from. They stood outside a much more... noisy building. The sign that marked it had only two legible words given her rather limited literary vocabulary. Firewater. Not two separate words, but crammed together to make one, a somewhat foreign concept and they were chased by letter that held no meaning to her. However, it would be a lie to say she did not enjoy the painted shape in which it was so wonderful crafted in. Once within, she would sweep the gathered and the scenery itself in idle observation, though her footfalls drifted more towards a slightly quieter corner. “Specials are listed behind the keeper. If nothing catches your eye just ask over whatever you want,”  she would sheepishly wave her hand slightly to dismiss the thought. After all, her claim of being broke to her brother was certainly not in line with the other falsities that escaped her lips unknowingly. “Order whatever you like.” He offered and her cheeks would again stain slightly. "I-I couldn't." Came her sheepish rejection, unwilling to ask anymore of the stranger that had already offered his company and guidance.

It wasn't long, however, before the barkeep made his round, normal or not she couldn't fathom. She would offer him, too, a soft grin in greeting, one he returned with a sharp tooth smirked. His gaze rolled around to her promised guide only to land back on her, vocals impish as he spoke. "Here to sample the goat?" Her head would shake in negative, oblivious to the hinted taunting. "Oh no, th-thank you. I'm not hungry." Admittedly, however, she was already beginning to feel much better with the promise of a warm hearth tending to her frigid skin.

!

NO ONE COMES HOME ANYMORE

Augustus was never good at keeping to silence when curiosities were so hard to ignore. A tongues refusal to still a curse all its own though the answer which befell him was hardly what one expected. She lived here? And yet some illness supposedly kept her cooped up inside, did her parents not think to allow her a glimpse of the world around her during such trails? Surely they could have gotten books, maps, painted imagery, anything to paint a view of the city just outside their door… but he was making assumptions now. Perhaps she had been too ill to even get out of bed, maybe any amount of activity zapped her of all strength before it could ever truly begin.

Such wonderings he may never know for on this he would not pry. Just like with so many others known, it was not his place to dig for unneeded information. Musings kept within his own crown though it did not stop ears from twitching in silent thought. Breath fogging the air in gentle breath, “You look well enough to me. If not a bit cold.” Not that his opinion mattered here, “You’re walking fine, talking fine.” He heard no rasp upon each drawn breath nor the mismatched beating of a faulty heart in her breast. There came no obvious stench of sickness upon the air as it fogged before her. Perhaps she’d been healed or took medicines that subdued the symptoms. So many question flooding his mind and yet he would ask none of them.

Rosen gaze holding upon her in silent study before seeming to catch it lingering, steadily returning focus to the road ahead. “Guess they finally let you get out and about though huh?” Left to fend for herself in an apparently unknown realm. The goat only left with his assumptions now. For while the hour was late she still wandered on her own, “Are they expecting you back at a certain hour?” Recollection of her earlier comment, one of just leaving. Perhaps it had been a bid to return home, hide away in the sanctuary such structure could provide to those lucky few it embraced. “Wouldn’t want to get you into any trouble by keeping you away,” and yet one could already see the creeping rays of sunlight daring to peek over the horizon. If she held a curfew it had no doubt already passed.

The majority of their journey after fell in silent rhythm. He wouldn’t press for more lest she offered it forth herself. Attentions flickering over the familiarity of a path traveled so many times before, all the way to the well known scents of the phoenix’s tavern. Lyrics a gentle murmur as he offered direction upon entering. Allowance given for another to select seating, where he would follow in turn. And while it was not where the goat would normally sit, if it offered some semblance of comfort to the unknown then so be it. Though he cannot hide the questioning tilt of his skull and the slight perking of elongate ears at her refusal. “You sure? Promise the food’s good here,” decent at its worst, “Sometimes the drinks too… though that depends entirely on who’s making them.” Or rather what concoction the barkeep decided to craft the specials from this night.

“It’ll warm you up faster than the hearth alone,” the very warmth so many others perched around to better hear the lyrical song of a local bard. One forging tales of wonder. However, it is the recognizable aroma of the wolven barkeep that soon draws his focus. A wide, near predatory grin, pulling across those all too familiar features as briefly a dark tongue ran against the fangs so proudly on dispaly. The hyena was a menace in his own right though always sure to tend to those held within the phoenix’s embrace. And it seemed - for now - attentions were drawn to the woman perched with him at the corner table.

Teasing smile, amusement sparkling behind those eyes as question of sampling filled the air. A remark which thankfully seemed to pass over the stranger’s head. Or else she was too polite to call the frizzy hound out on it. Though while her tongue was held, Augustus’ eyes nearly rolled and far differetn retort slipped free, “You know what Fiero. Maybe I do.” And in those moments all focus rested upon the hyena, “Sure you have any in stock?” There came a moment of hesitation, as if Fiero put serious thought into the question. Going over past deliveries though humor never left those shinging eyes, “Yeah, think we do goat boy. I’ll bring somethin’ nice out for ya.”

A quick wink before phrases fell in a rush, “Plus the usual drinks.” And after but a tick of silence, a mental note made of a proclaimed order, attentions would once more shift to one who had given her denial. “Holler if yer mind changes.” Though there already lingered plans to bring a drink for her as well. Part of the ‘usual’ after all. If she wished to order any food there would come another chance the moment filled glasses hit the table. And the moment he shuffles off toward the back, no doubt passing it off to another to prepare while he got the drinks. Once August was certain the man lay out of ear shot, brief apology would fall, “Don’t pay Fiero too much mind. He can be a bit... pushy.” For lack of a better word. Pushy. Forward. Never overly subtle in his assumptions. All of it could be applied to the usual barkeep that tended this tavern.

A WREATH OF THORNS ADORNS THE DOOR

“You look well enough to me. If not a bit cold.” That smile didn't leave her mouth, albeit her cheeks flushed slightly more. The chill didn't seem to bother him as much. Nor did it make her family members shrivel at the thought of going outside, but her need for escape had proved stronger than her dread of the nipping cold. "I am very c-cold." Came the quiet admittance, perhaps too soft to be heard. Though it held more meaning than just the elements. The feeling went beyond her skin, to her very bones. To the blood that pushed its way through her veins. She'd been in this state since before she'd left the mansion. Since she had been delivered the news of her intended fate. Frozen, frigid. Like she shouldn't be able to move an inch. Like she had been left beneath the curtain of ice over a lake with no way to escape the deadly prison.

“You’re walking fine, talking fine.” Her gaze fell. He had no way of knowing, of course. This stranger who wore kindness like a cloak. One who had thus far been patient and helpful to her. He was unfamiliar with her, with this frustrating stammer not blooming from chattering teeth, but her normal speech. A soft hum left her. She knew better, however. It was a weakness that had already been picked at. Not only from her parents, but her brother now as well. She looked skyward, partially to avoid the fierce sting of tears and partly to simply look at the wide open space above her. It was something they didn't quite seem to understand, that she could not help the ways her mouth worked against her. The tightness in her throat not only present atimes when she was threatened with crying. It was a particularly sore spot for her father, his reason for keeping her from making many public appearances, yet her mother was content with it, though it was obvious she also held disdain for the sound. 'It's fine. Young ladies of the court are meant to be seen - not heard.' She had said, twirling wine within her cup, idle. Dismissive. As if that really did solve everything.

“Guess they finally let you get out and about though huh?” This drew her attention back to him, perhaps too quickly, too intently for the way she tried to pass it off with a laugh. She hoped it didn't sound as nervous to him as it did to her own ears. Ones that began to burn lightly. “Are they expecting you back at a certain hour?” Oh, surely they were. It made her gaze swivel unconsciously over her shoulder, back the way she had traveled, before she even crossed paths with him. "No. They didn't s-say." It wasn't a lie, so she was able to keep it sincere in her tone. They hadn't said, because of course she had not even dreamt of asking. If she had her way, she would never ask them for another thing. She just had to keep going once she got warm. “Wouldn’t want to get you into any trouble by keeping you away,” at which she would shake her own head. "It would be my own doing." If she was caught. If.

As she settled into the booth, her attention would drift along the features of her guide. A slight study now that they were seated and no longer just passing in the street. Her hands settled upon the table's surface before her, fingers coiling with one another to halt the nervous picking they oft did. “You sure? Promise the food’s good here.” His voice drug her back from glancing out the window and back to him. His ears had moved, a fascinating thing, and she didn't know how she had missed them previously. She supposed she had simply assumed them to be an ornament rather than true anatomy. “Sometimes the drinks too… though that depends entirely on who’s making them.” Again, she would give him a smile, her head tilting with the expression softly. "It's alright. I had dinner b-before I left." She didn't call it home. It didn't feel like home. A cell. A gift box for another. She was finally becoming familiar once again with the halls and the faces found within, only to be told she would be shipped off yet again. Her chest, no, her heart ached at the thought of having everything torn from her once again.

“It’ll warm you up faster than the hearth alone.” She didn't particularly like the sear of alcohol, or perhaps it was simply the taste of her family's choosing. Truthfully, she would rather have water or something else, but the promise of it serving to warm her was a touch too tempting to let slide. "Maybe a drink. I -hmm- y-you can pick." She hid the uncertainty behind an offer, holding a sense of abashment that she knew so very little of spirits, let alone how to properly order them. “You know what Fiero. Maybe I do.” She cast the man another look from her peripherals as he engaged the bar keep instead, and she had the stark sense that she had missed something. However, she didn't allow the thought to linger. “Sure you have any in stock?” It was followed by a moment of quiet as she allowed her sights to sweep betwixt the two in what she hoped was a nonchalant, or unnoticeable action, though she couldn't hide the slight hint of mirth that danced within them.

It wasn't until that flighty attention landed on her again that she fully allowed her stare to catch, “Holler if yer mind changes.” And she would merely dip her head deeply in acknowledgement, a sense of foreboding lacing her tongue with silence. She hadn't the cold now to help cover the fits of her stammering, and so she attempted to maintain her quiet. “Don’t pay Fiero too much mind. He can be a bit... pushy.” "Oh," she started, her words slowly, an effort and focus taken to steady her vocals. "He seems.... lovely."

!

NO ONE COMES HOME ANYMORE

Unnoticed was the aversion of her gaze and the flush which blossomed over her cheek upon particular tones. Rosen sights only drifting to her now on occasion as he spoke, careful not to linger for too long - rudely - as they had before in observations. Only for the next to bring a slight start to plague him as those eyes seemly whipped upon him with a fluttering of nervous laughter. Touchy subject he supposed, though soft smile would still turn his lips at her none too subtle way of playing off such a motion. But he held no reason to call attention to it, no desire to draw out what could have been a rather awkward moment.

While the most important aspect lie in warming her up - for such admittance against the chill had fallen from her own lips - if she held no given curfew there was no reason she couldn’t live it up a little. Have some fun, find enjoyment in silencing the occasional chatter of teeth and quell the steady quiver of her tone. Paces kept steady rhythm until at last they stilled entirely upon the perch of selected booth. Another bout of denial to flee upon an offering, “I had dinner b-before I left.” Phrases which sparked his own to rise in absent-minded murmur, “And now it is nearly morning.”

Though if she did not wish to eat he would not pressure her to. A mind could always be changed, something added to the bill if his own selection was not of shared interest. There would surely be enough given to do so and yet musing of just what one should get lay stalled.

Ah! Acceptance at last, if not a bit reluctantly but still it sparked a huff of laughter to flee his lungs, “Now that’s asking a lot of me miss. I don’t even know what you like.” After all, he had just met her though guesses could always be made. Chances taken. And if she found it peculiar or not to her tastes it could be something he could finish or pawn off to another. Yet before more could be asked of her the very keeper he fretted over held focus. An order made to combat teasing phrase before apology lay offered in the other’s stead.

Only for unabashed smile to pull across his lips, enough to mark the hint of wolven fangs as he quieted a rush of laughter. “Lovely? Now that’s not something I’ve ever heard someone call him,” arms folded over themselves on the table as the goat leaned upon them. Ears swiveling forward in his amusement, “Before our darling Fiero returns, how’s your tolerance? Knowing that will help me pick something out for you,” or stop the tender from starting her off with something too strong right off the bat. Especially since she seemingly did not wish to make the decisions herself yet perhaps this was another oddity to her? Just like the streets she’d once walked. A wonder stilled upon his tongue. No matter how he wished to ask it of her.