He was by far one of the cleanest travelers coming to this place, his eyes scanning the interior of the establishment, as though looking for the lurking trouble they may be there. Though that concentration became fragmented as a nearly cheerful voice greeted him. Shadowing the doorway of the confines, he seemed to dwarf the female as she passed him by now. If he only knew what she was thinking, he would agree with her, he would do as he liked. There was none and few between dared to tell him what to do. After all, a man that played tag with wolves, seemed animistic and unable to be tamed.<br/><br/>Stepping more fully into the confined space, he gave a side way glance to the thin female before marching his way to a empty table. Slipping the chair from under the table the male took his seat, slightly slouched and relaxed in stance. He hardly seemed to be a figure of power or evil, but the eyes always told the story of who someone was. His eyes were relentlessly scanning the tavern from his vantage point, yet making as less of a target as possible. Nonetheless, most that seemed to pass his way would get a strong sense of sea salt, as though he had just freshly emerged from the sea itself.<br/><br/>Within his silence contemplation came to mind, the longer he seemed to sit and scan the tavern life the more he started to wonder. The woman that had greeted him when he entered seemed to be friendly enough...yet, seemed as dirty as a common whore. The light dusting of work showing over her facial expression and more then that, her greeting seemed as though she was looking for the first thing to come through the door to take her. He couldn't exactly wrap his head around the thought of why a woman would want to do that, or for that matter how they could handle it, whatever the cause was he didn't want to know the effect.<br/><br/>Leaning back in his chair his legs came up, crossing over one another on top of the table face, relaxing further into the seat. His arms coming up to cross over one another at the back of his head. The thick corded muscles seemed to be tense as his posture seemed to be relaxed, tilting his head back against the wall of his arms, his eyes closed, waiting to be serviced as promised. If the woman didn't get to him soon enough he was going to go off on a hell raising spree. He was one of those men that didn't like to be kept waiting... ever.