The wine cellar was dark and silent, yet dry and pleasantly-cool. It was, arguably, the most peaceful place within the bar, and so perhaps it was fortunate that the bolt-hole picked that particular spot to spit out its occupant. The dim quiet of the cellar was suddenly disturbed as the air seemed to shimmer, like it would in the middle of a hot summer day. With a sound somewhere between a firecracker and a hiccup, a rift of light tore open in the center of the room just long enough to spit out a gangly body, then collapsed in on itself, leaving the cellar silent once more.<br/><br/>For a minute or two, the creature it had deposited didn't stir, but then a limb twitched, a shiver rustled its auburn fur, and with a quiet groan, Faun uncurled herself and groggily sat up. She could have passed for a satyr of myth, although generally, satyrs were pictured with a bit more dignity than the fearful being peering about. This didn't...<i>look</i>like the Hedge. Didn't feel like it either, though there was still an undercurrent of magic in the air that made her nose itch. She rose unsteadily to her feet, cloven hooves rapping softly against the wooden floor. Her tail swished about her hocks for balance, and a pale, wide-eyed face was just visible under her messy auburn locks. The faun twitched an ear, listening intently, but it was quiet as the grave here.<br/><br/>Now she just had to figure out where 'here' was.<br/><br/>Careful stumbling about in the darkness led her to brush her hands over what felt like a door, though when she tried to turn the knob, it wouldn't budge. It took her another minute of fumbling to find the lock and unfasten it, allowing her to shoulder the heavy cedar door open and step into the hall. She could hear distant music in a style she didn't recognize, but it certainly sounded like nothing one would have heard in the Faerie wilderness. Walking as quietly as possible for a hoofed creature, she followed the sounds, unsure what she would find.