Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-9062114-20140831060517/@comment-25020809-20140903040703

Feet carried their owner to a tavern where she slowly entered the door with her head down. Once she took a seat, she dropped her hood and the fire light as shadows over her angular face. She carried a bow in her hand, and a quiver is strapped to her back. Wine was ordered with some beef stew, which she hate quickly. Despite the time being late, it seemed she had no desire to sleep so she took to looking around and observing the others. Dark lips curved into a smile, a genuine friendly smile. For now she just listened, before she sung softyl to herself, the song Ragnar the Red.