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</div>"God's curse ya, ya filthy Halfling!" </i>The serving woman’s voice made Will startle when he had walked in. He turned in place, only to see the woman’s wrath was aimed at someone else.<br/><br/>He breathed a sigh of relief and thanked the gods, continuing to the large, raised stone hearth, where he was able to perch himself and watch the others. Draya, with her all-black jumpsuit, had just received a platter of cheese, fruit and bread, as well as a glass of wine. She always was presumptuous like that; wine, when ale would do. Fruit and cheese when stew was the common fare as if she was some special little sparrow that only ate seed from the Isle of Glass.<br/><br/>Next to her, a tanned skin man covered from head to foot had seated himself. The large tankard in front of him was refilled, and Will could see the sharp eyes peering from the simple slit left by his face covering. The weapons on the man’s back looked dangerous, and something about him raised the hairs on the back of Will’s neck.<br/><br/><i>“I did smell a <b>mutt</b>,” Draya said. </i>Will scowled at her back, wanting to snap at her but also wishing to keep his distance.<br/><br/>A colorful gypsy woman with layers of bright clothing and a lute was sitting a small distance away, but he noted she looked at he larger group occasionally. Then he remembered she was the woman who had woken up in the stable. Perhaps she played music all night long and slept all day? He wasn’t sure, but it felt nice to see that there weren’t just thugs and ruffians in this tavern.<br/><br/>As he continued to survey the people crowded around the tanned, bearded man and his sunset-haired companion, a motley-dressed (or undressed, depending on how you looked at him) man sat on the floor right in front of Will. He lowered his gaze, lips pressed together as he eyed the dual mugs held in the strange traveler’s hands. Will decided that he, along with the brightly dressed woman, must have come in on the same circus train. Certainly they had the air of gypsies, though she was bright and gaudy and he was merely<i>interesting</i>.<br/><br/>And earthy. Hmm, the dog in him wanted to find that patch of earth the man had laid in and roll around in it. It smelled rich and clean, and full of freshly tilled compost.<br/><br/>Will sniffed curiously just as one of the cups was thrust towards him and their owner declared it was mead. His eyes darted from the mug to the man and back again. Then it went back to the man, and Will inclined his head to the left as he studied his eyes. One was earthy brown, and made him feel like he wanted to dig a shallow hole and lay in the rich cool soil. The other eye was stormy and grey, like the skies over a tumultuous sea. He realized he was leaning to the left and caught himself before tumbling off the heart.<br/><br/>“Uhm…thank you,” he replied to the compliment. “I like your eyes too.” He glanced over at the table and frowned. Then he looked at the still extended mug. “Is that…for me?”<br/><br/>He reached out, took the offered gift, then apologized to the man before him. “I don’t have any money to pay you back.”<br/><br/>His gaze washed back to the table, and Will nodded at Haaf’s question. “I think it’s them, but I’m not sure…they might be looking for who I’m looking for,” he said, bringing his eyes back to look at Haaf. He blinked a couple of times, then extended his right hand to him. “I’m Will Riot,” he said, studying the first person he had really talked to since he assumed human form.<br/><br/>Draya didn’t count. She wasn’t a person. She was fowl. Literally.<br/><br/>“So…what exactly are<i>you</i>looking for?” He was trying to ignore the redhead’s repeated gripe about smelling a dog. As if the scent of a dog were something foul! He rather liked the scent, especially when it was mixed in with rain-fresh grass and the mossy, duff of decomposed forest undergrowth. It was heavenly, in his mind. It made it difficult to concentrate on the conversation before them. He listened to the fae-born’s answer, felt himself smiling in response, and then took a sip of the proffered mead, feeling a little more settled now that it seemed they might be in the right spot.<br/><br/>But little by little the voices came through: Zalek with his aversion to spiced mead, who boasted of his long life and battle prowess; the gypsy woman with her intriguing accent and that wonderfully colorful outfit, who made him wonder exactly how she intended to keep herself warm at night. Though…with her knife skills, the bubbly gypsy with the strange accent might have to satisfy herself with sleeping alone at night.<br/><br/>Will agreed with the white-haired woman when she called the group barbarians. Maybe not all of them were, but throwing knives certainly made him nervous!<br/><br/>A moment later he decided that he was made even more nervous by the sudden change in the snippy platinum blond. One second she sounded like she was going to bite of Videl’s head, the next…she was apologizing. Will felt like she needed to make up her mind!<br/><br/>Will sighed. He was watching the bearded human and his redhead intently. Damn it – they didn’t exactly say what they were going to be tracking, but they were heading out of town. Will was heading out of town. He glanced at the man sitting next to him. He might be heading out of town. Damn it again, but there was Draya…but Casimir was gone, and Casimir needed to be ‘not gone,’ and Will…He let out a groan that almost sounded like a whine. He needed to go look for him.<br/><br/>Slowly his hand went up to get Videl’s attention. “I’m a good scout,” he said, his voice nearly breaking at repeating Prince Casimir’s words.<br/><br/><i>‘You’re a good boy. Good Scout,’</i>Will remembered his human saying. He sighed and lowered his hand as he met the man’s gaze. “I can help you find what you’re looking for.”