After the Wood Wailer ducked in, there were calm, yet content voices outside the door. After a brief, but relatively chipper conversation, Rhesh'ir pushed his way into the inn. The hyur barkeep looked up, nodding with a smirk to the familiar face. The bard removed his hat with one hand, and strolled his way casually to his usual corner. The barkeep put down the wooden mug to grab a clean one, and filled it to the brim.
Rhesh'ir's corner was definitely his, as there was no one else in the relative vicinity, and he made quick work of putting his belongings, few though they were, in their proper places. After sitting his lyre against the seat, he walked up to the bar, glancing around at the patrons. He leaned against the counter with his side, still glancing around.
"Slow night, is it?" Rhesh'ir asked quietly. The Elezen kept their glances mostly to themselves, and began their own conversation.
"You really need to ask that?" the barkeep replied with a chuckle. He returned to cleaning the cups. "Maybe if you started playing now, a few waywards might find their way here before the beasts swallow them during the night."
The miqo'te smiled. "What a pleasant thought. I doubt it." At that, he picked up the mug, gave a small nod, and headed back to his corner. After a few gulps, he picked up the harp and began strumming casually. It was just enough to take the silence away between breaths and lulls in conversation.
Rhesh'ir's corner was definitely his, as there was no one else in the relative vicinity, and he made quick work of putting his belongings, few though they were, in their proper places. After sitting his lyre against the seat, he walked up to the bar, glancing around at the patrons. He leaned against the counter with his side, still glancing around.
"Slow night, is it?" Rhesh'ir asked quietly. The Elezen kept their glances mostly to themselves, and began their own conversation.
"You really need to ask that?" the barkeep replied with a chuckle. He returned to cleaning the cups. "Maybe if you started playing now, a few waywards might find their way here before the beasts swallow them during the night."
The miqo'te smiled. "What a pleasant thought. I doubt it." At that, he picked up the mug, gave a small nod, and headed back to his corner. After a few gulps, he picked up the harp and began strumming casually. It was just enough to take the silence away between breaths and lulls in conversation.
![[Image: enjin-396275-2722098-blue.png]](https://sigs.enjin.com/sig/enjin-396275-2722098-blue.png)
