Mark
*The day had been long and peddling for costumers was certainly very difficult for Santiago. He wasn't sure if such difficulty was caused by the exhaustion of going to a very social place to try and sell his wares or his own gruff, woodsy, and calloused appearance accompanied by his cruel mass of muscle that likely scared most away. He had done his best to clean himself up before he visited his hometown of Dalery on the way to Willowdale, and yet the very few coins in his pocket made him feel like he didn't do enough. He wanted to buy himself a beer, but he knew he'd need this money to buy food for the journey back and heating oil for his home. Or maybe save up for a newer... Stronger axe. He sighs and told himself mentally to keep dreaming*

*He looks up towards the tavern he had just entered, where he stands statuesque in the doorframe like he had been rooted there in mystical thought for a moment. Thank goodness a poor unfortunate patron didn't need to leave, or else they'd have to get around him, which was certainly the task while he was in a bit of a melancholy mood.*

*His footsteps lumber large as he makes his way over to an empty table, his shoulders slumping as if doing so would make him and his cruelly muscular shoulder mantle any less noticeable. He even wore his cloak today, just to help him feel like he could hide and distance himself from it all, especially after today. He needed something to chase this away, and no, the embarrassingly noticeable of a wailing booth seat would not do that for him.*
Charlie
What seemed local to Santiago remained ever foreign to the next entrant to this simple tavern. Another would stumble upon this doorway, less melancholic and a far easier sort to get past thankfully. A smaller figure, a woman shrouded less so in the secretive leathers and more so a more affluent style. What once was a hood raised remained lowered, and the darkened skin of a pointy eared figure. 

At first she would catch looks just for the sake of blocking out that showing of the sun outside, then came cause for curiousity and soon.. Suspicion? Why of course, for she was none other than a Drow. Lazarothian, a kind with an ever so complex history on this side of Lucidien. Even with the slightest of utterings made by the locals, this one wouldn't hide her features or consider the thought to cower away from such a Tavern. No no, she was determined to find some service! 

Vierna was her name, and of her features they seemed particularly exotic for the type Alynthi usually found. Her skin was darker than most, accompanied by the rare mutation of white dapples which only further highlighted the appearance of a dark night sky. Her eyes, particularly pale and blue only mirrored that tone. Her hair, silvery white as befit most of her kind. She certainly looked young, but for a pointy eared one like her it was hard to tell with such a long existence. 

Be it suspicion, curiousity or intrigue at her features, there certainly held a confidence in her step. As some may have known, a Drow was no stranger to confidence. This one seemed particularly wealthy by her style of garb and her very look, but she was neither guarded by an escort or company to boot. Neither did she seem afraid of associating with the 'lesser class.'

A casual glance lingered back at those watching her, seeming to lack much weaponry save for that sly gaze. Ever so simply she passed by the table where the lone hooded one sat - possibly saving a glance or two at the sheer size of the man. Still, the bar awaited and she seemed most verbal, a low utter to the bartender for a drink and offered with a careful smile. The Bartender showing caution, but going along nonetheless as she offered her coin.
Mark
He was certainly not watching her. In fact, he wasn't watching much of anything but the imaginary mug of beer that he blocked out and shaped with his hands. He took off his hood directly after she looked towards him; it had shielded him from the knowledge of a passing gaze of what was likely judgement. His skin was tan and his hair was beautifully shiny and very dark mess on the top his head, fortunately it looks nice enough that he needn't care for it all that much. He has a healthy amount of dark facial hair that seems to callous and rpughen his skin even more, despite his eyes still remaining endearingly soft.

Upon idly glancing at the bar and considering, then he spots the affluently dressed Drow woman standing out in a much more evident way than he did, and he's momentarily glad that there's someone to take any eyes away from him. The one thing he lacked was the confidence... At least in a public space like this. Nobody here saw him when he was with his family, with the ones he cared about... His friend... Well... He didn't really have any close friends that he really showed himself to at the moment. And yet his heart still whined about his loneliness even though he chose to be a solitary woodsman and led such a lifestyle as he

He thinks of getting a beer again, and this time a pang of peckishness strikes him. It's too bad he couldn't just skewer some dying animal and cook its meat like he did back at home... Because there weren't animals like him around here. He figured that he'd at least to try and distract himself from his day of poor sales and the great effort he made for such meager results. So, he entertains that passing curiosity that most here would have around these olaces towards a Drow, and he stands. Another distinct groan and creak of his booth seat rings out, signaling hs rrival as he sinks down into a seat nearby the drow woman, saying nothing, basically twiddling his thumbs
Charlie
It wouldn't be long for the glass of drink came to the She-Elf, offered with a faint nod by the bartender which she took rather graciously. A grip made for the cup, a sip, then the sudden creak that rang out behind her. Bickering and noise, quite the show in a Tavern. Plenty of strange faces to meet, both a good kind or bad ones. This one that attempted to distract himself with the sudden arrival of a Drow seemed unclear as of now. 

It was quite hard to ignore the lumbering presence that showed itself nearby, caught by a flicker in her vision. A casual sip would be made, then a simply side long glance that truly took a moment of surprise. - That height difference was certainly notable, and the bulk of the man surely brought some shapeshifters of Gantrick to sheer shame. Nonetheless, quite the intimidating sight would have usually scared off someone of her size and preparedness but not her! No no, confidence in the exterior was her main priority. 

"Hm.." - A low mutter came from the Drow's lips, that sidelong glance soon rather shamelessly shifting into a blatant turn of her head as she looked the man up and down with a curious narrow of her eyes. Was he.. Just twiddling his thumbs? It was an amusing sight, for someone of his size. She certainly judged his look and clothes in some silence, gauging just what she was potentially having to face. But, she wouldn't make it so simple as to start off any play of words. No, she intended to wait and see just what would happen next.
Mark
The woodsman brought his coins clumsily into his hands and wet his lips as if he was about to say something to the bartender before he slips them away. For a moment, he felt so incredibly awkward he wondered if he should just pack it and leave. He always put on a gravely, stony expression in new places, because he hated being overwhelmed by the bustling chorus of man, which sounded cacophonic next to nature's chorus

He looks aloofly back to her, feeling the sidelong glance as most humanoids do, giving her an also analyzing look. Or, it likely just seemed as such as he didn't have much a sense for people beyond what they looked like, so he was absorbing that and the nice clothing for the moment. He had to look down... Something he did often, but he realized he probably needed to soften his expression if he didn't want to scare her away... Why wasn't she already?

When the glance turned into a full on once-over, he squints a little and frowns. But when he spoke, it didn't come out harshly or angrily, moreso like a grand thrumming murmur that rose up from the very earth and roots itself, like it rose from the depths of his wide and quite muscular chest to his lips.
"What do you want, ma'am?" He decided to approach this like he would a prospecting customer seeking him out. It was evidently not very good or practiced as he didn't get many patrons in this town