Fingers reached for Théadan's and he was happy to take Navia's hand into his own as they walked into the tavern together. What assailed his senses first about the place, was how smoky it was. He was used to seeing fires in taverns, and there being a lingering scent of burning wood, but this was far different to that. The place was dim, little light getting into the tavern, and to Théadan's surprise it was not a fire in a hearth responsible for how smoky the place was, but rather the people sitting around a peculiar object, passing a pipe between each other, and breathing smoke in a manner that reminded Théadan of the old stories of dragons living in the mountains of Mes'Mo'Tan. He found himself staring at the group of men with curiosity, wondering why they would be sat around this? Why would they be breathing smoke? War had brought him close to fire more often than he cared too, and inhaling the smoke always sent people into fits of coughs, why was this different? It was such sights as these that caused many a Mes'Mo'Tanian to think some Khluri knew magic.<br/><br/>A bark from the Khluri tavern owner made Théadan jump a little, tearing his gaze away from the group to look at the man who had shouted. He did not understand what had been said, but a venomous glare had no boundaries in language. Clearly this man was not happy to see a Mes'Mo'Tanian in his tavern, the grimace Navia showed when she glanced back at him only told him what had been said was going to be something insulting, or threatening. Laughter from the counter from one of the men sat there suggested it was likely insulting. He listened to Navia speak, voice more measured and reasoning, likely her being diplomatic, but Théadan couldn't shame the animosity and tension that had filled the room. The boy plucking at a string instrument had stopped, and even he had a glare for him. A child that age with hatred in his eyes, he had probably lost someone dear to him in the war.<br/><br/>The way all eyes were on them made it clear to Théadan this was not a safe place for them, or specifically him. War had been on the doorstep of these people's homes, they would have lost people they loved, and the blame would squarely lie on all Mes'Mo'Tanians. Navia at his side was his only saving grace, and after a little talking a key was tossed on to the counter top, and Navia was asking for their coin pouch. Théadan gave it wordlessly, deciding the less he said, the better it was for them. Navia paid, and a moment later the owner was returning with a small basket of food which he pushed across the counter at them in a resentful manner. Navia gave a word of thanks, the only Khluri word Théadan understood in the whole exchange, and was leading them towards the stairs, when another man shouted at them. She paused, and Théadan could almost sense that turmoil Navia would have, she always approached injustice head on, even if it put herself in danger. Yet while whatever the man had said was strong enough to give Navia a moment to consider her options, she remained quiet and continued towards the stairs, suggesting to Théadan she was being cautious for his sake.<br/><br/>In their room for the night, Navia was quick to tell him not to go anywhere without her while they were here. The entire experience left him not caring what the room looked like, he did not take it in. Théadan did not like having been left in the dark, and not knowing what had been said when he was the focal point of conflict. "What did they say?" He was quick to ask, ignoring the notion of food for now in favour for what was a far more pressing issue. "Suggesting we keep a sword near the bed is not at all reassuring to me, I'd like to know what was said so I can assess what danger there is here too." And clearly there was danger, the anger in that tavern at his presence had been directed at him from near everybody in the room except Navia. Whatever had been said had not been kind, and the fact she was suggesting they keep a sword close any further added to the notion, they, or more likely he would be in danger tonight. He had no desire to be picking fights with the locals, and he had sworn not to use his sword again, so the prospect of having to keep it by his bed was putting him in a foul mood.<br/><br/>That there was danger here, and a group of Khluri who clearly did not want him around, had him wondering what else they might do if they wished to vent their anger, but feared approaching him directly. "Will our horses be safe?" Théadan asked, a little worried for the well being of Wyndagar and Varinata. "I know the Khluri treat them well, but that won't stop them from stealing them in the night if they're angry at the sight of Mes'Mo'Tanian in their midst." It was unlikely they would be able to make Wyndagar go anywhere, he was far too big and strong for that. Varinata though was new to them, a bond had not yet formed, and if Khluri began leading her away, would she struggle against the goading of unfamiliar faces?