A slender, lightly tanned<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.episodeseason.com%2Fdigital-art%2Fdemon-girls%2Fsuccubus-hunter.jpg&amp;hash=4389483a7d1d6634f40437d6ce1272d2" href="http://www.episodeseason.com/digital-art/demon-girls/succubus-hunter.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">woman</a>huddled by the warmth of the fire, holding her hands out to the flickering flames as if she was too desperate to warm them. She rubbed her hands together in front of the flames before she brought them to her face, pressing her lips against them before she opened them and pressed them to her cheeks. Once satisfied, her hands went to the hood of her cloak and removed the dark grey material. Shaking her dark, dark brown hair loose, she ran her fingers through the slightly damp locks, all the while, her eyes floating from individual to individual on the floor.<br/><br/>The room felt full, it pulsed  with life and soul. There was so much energy, so much potential. It felt amazing, almost intoxicating. She couldn’t help the small smile that surfaced on her lips in her reaction to her thoughts, but it faded as her wandering mind found a new focus, the whispers of the people sitting on the bench nearby. She coudn’t quite hear what they were saying, their whispering seemed deliberate.<br/><br/>Instead of lingering in hopes for an opening, she made her way to the bar, weaving through tables that seated merry men and women, drinking, talking, and gambling. Her glances were quick, but calculated, making a mental map of those in the room. They were all glowing with life, thanks to the lighting of the tavern and the alcohol in their systems. This, plus the fact that it sat on a convenient location, made it the perfect spot for her to set her next mark.<br/><br/>Settling on an empty stool at the bar, she looked for the barkeep, trying to signal them over with just her glamoured hazel eyes and a tilt of her head. She hadn’t fully decided what she’d get, but she did like how the foam looked in her neighbor’s mug. The texture of foam was delightful, she had discovered recently at another bar in her travels this lifetime. It was light and thick, and on mead, it was a lovely contrast. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips as she thought,<i>yes, that’s what I’ll have</i>. She had coin in her purse, a decent amount after her recent string of successes. Those she took from wouldn’t have a need for their coin anyway, not anymore.<br/><br/>“<b>It warms up quickly in here, doesn’t it?</b>” she asked, not taking to anyone in particular when she slid off her seat to remove her cloak from her shoulders. The low cut back of her dress revealed two black-inked tattoos, matching in design. While she did use glamour to hide her wings from view, the curved angles that painted her skin was natural, as natural as it could be. “<b>All better,</b>” she declared with a smile, sliding back onto the stool and draping the cloak across her lap, covering the dagger that hung against the front of her left hipbone. The cloak was still slightly damp, but she didn’t mind. Being wet was being better than burning alive.