They managed to make it to the Fishermare’s Hook, the sign hanging out front depicting a stylised pony fishing. Deep furrows in the stone road from uncounted years of wagon traffic caused him to trip up every now and again. His thoughts were still jumbled and his mind distracted, making concentrating on his surroundings a bit difficult. Fortunately, or not depending on how you look at it, he was brought sharply back down to earth when Jacques opened the door to the tavern, and the very woman he had attacked days before stood on the other side, evidently trying to leave just as they arrived.