Fariday stepped into the inn quietly, walking to the back of the room, filled with lively patrons who drank and gambled the night away. Sitting in an empty seat, he proceedEd to wring out his soaked white hair, wet from the rapidly worsening storm outside. As he reached the end of his long, rough pnytail, black wings unfurled from beneath his cloak to expell excess water.
The action drew several stares and the glare of an indignant Felid woman who was hit by the spray. Mumbling an apology, the Torian pulled a map case from his pack, sliding it's contents out onto the table and scrutinizing it thoroughly.
After a few minutes, Fariday felt a presence over his shoulder. Turning to identify who it was, he was surprised to find it was a wolven man, large and burly, staring at him. The man had a girl at his side, whom Fariday quickly identified as the same cat person from before. However, it was only now that he saw the collar around her neck, complete with a gold tag.
"You're in my seat, Torian. Get lost 'fore I make you lost." he breathed. The smell of ale was heavy on his breath, accented by what may have been pork.
"I hope you're kidding. You're drunk and unarmed." Fariday replied, turning back to the map.
Not more than a second later, a muscular fist lashed at his head. Easily dodging it, Fariday quickly gripped the wolven's arm and spun him around, pinning him to the floor.
"I had hoped you were kidding. I don't take kindly to threats." he stated to the dazed wolf, now struggling beneath his foot. " next time, the arm comes off."