Johnny
*Enu looked up at him, pausing from eating. He sat his fork down and took a breath.* "What you do after this is none of my business. But I will not leave you with nothing. Here." *He reaches into his pocket and hands him a pouch of silver.* "Take that and get out of town. Find you something that will get you on your feet."
Pamela
Amos wasn't sure *How* He felt exactly about the man helping him. Some part was still convinced it was a joke, and the rest of him had simply readily accepted that even if it was, he had to keep moving forward. He ate just enough to seem acceptable, like a child wanting away from the kitchen table, then finished his water.

"Fair enough then." He says, that smirk never vanishing like there was some punchline to come. He picks up the pouch, pushing himself up and ignoring the slight ache in his stomach. "Well then, I think I'm going to sleep. Thank you for your intervention." He says with a wink. Kind've an ass, isn't he?

Still he heads up the stairs where he can be by himself for a time, and once he locates his room, doesn't hesitate to open the window wide despite what weather they may be having. It sort of helps his anxieties. Sort of. Then it's off to bed for however long that happens.
Johnny
*Enu sat at the table for a long time, wondering if what he had done was the right thing. He had just committed a serious crime and he wasn't sure if the one that he saved was totally grateful.* "What have I gotten my self into?" *He sighed.*
Dennis
*Soft snow fell onto the streets as a cloaked figure made his way through the white haze. The wind gently whistled outside, biting at those who had come unprepared for the sudden cold. A hand delicately opened the door of the tavern, door quietly creaking as it was swung wide. Out of respect, the figure brushed snow off of his shoulders before stepping in, the sound of a homely fire crackling and lively patrons bustling about in the background meeting his soft tufted ears. They twitched gently, craning. Taking his hood off, he made his way to the bar silently, leather boots making little to no sound. Firelight glistened in his vibrant eyes, catching the silver flecks in a way that resembled opal. He'd sit at the bar next to another patron, waiting to catch the barkeeps attention. The young man carried himself in a somewhat-regal fashion, despite the fact he seemed like he had only recently become an adult.*

~~Sorry if this is hard to read because it's a block, I can separate it out if it'd be easier to read~~
Jessie
*Delo's had been taking up odd jobs in Silnaria, at this hour he happened to be the waiter of this tavern, a rather fancy job for this place. Regardless he's paid to serve his customers and do so he shalleth. He would walk up to Nik and would inquire* "Your beverage, sir?" *Delos would always had been good at being a waiter, whether it was for a well-off family or a shanty tavern dotted among the city.*
Dennis
*Ishikawas ears perked up as he was approached, and he would situate himself so his back was in a straighter position. He paused for a moment, putting some thought into his choice, before looking back up at the other man.* 
"Warm cider, or mead, if you have it." 
*He looked at the other patrons of the tavern out of the corner of his eye, always wary, it seemed.*
Jessie
"That would be 5 copper coins, for the mead, that is." *The waiter would extend a hand with a handkerchief covering it, intending for Ishikawa to place the coins on top of it. Delos would prefer to avoid physical contact with any of the patrons of this tavern, he doesn't know where their hands have been, especially since adventurers are the most common to take a mug of beer here. While Delos is an adventurer himself, he would always tell others to wash their damn hands, 'no merchant or noble will ever want to deal with a pigs hand' as he would always say to adventurers he meets, and if this wasn't his job he would certainly tell Ishikawa this.*
Dennis
*Ishikawa rifled through his coin purse before setting 4 copper coins on the handkerchief. The 5th he would eye for a moment before wiping some dried off of it with a gloved hand. Then, when he was satisfied with the condition, he'd place it on the handkerchief with the others. He wouldn't comment on the mans apparent cleanliness, though he would absentmindedly trace his fingers over an old pox scar on his arm. He murmured as the other would presumably go to fetch his drink,* 
"Have you any food for purchase either? It's been a while since I last ate.. Least a day."