Myarlothe's vessel drifted between worlds, slowly coasting along in that empty non-existence residing between existences. Her breath was shallow and slow as she mentally tracked the progress of her damaged vessel through the void. It felt like a dream, drifting in water. That sensation combined with the lingering effect of healing energies made it very hard to stay aware and conscious, but she didn't want to drift off course as that would spell even further disaster. Her escape from her pursuers hadn't exactly gone flawless, and she barely got away. She's gone too far this time, crossed lines even others like her would recoil in horror from. At least someone had given her the means to reach a place where she could stay until the circle had run around and everything had begun anew.<br/><br/><i>She wished she had had the chance to say goodbye. A strange sentiment unfamiliar to her that stung her heart.</i><br/><br/>Piercing through the bubble of the other existence, her vessel warped through the void gap to the nearest place with sentients, the bubble closing behind it. The dream-like feeling subsided enough to allow Myarlothe to crawl through the Gate into the world outside. Instantly, she was greeted by darkness, dryness and cold. The frigid air burned her lungs and gills, making breathing hurt. She had to get somewhere warm with people. There were lights in the dark, strange brightly-coloured lights, so she made her way over to them.<br/><br/>One of the more inviting buildings lured her inside with light, warm, and the smell of people. Slithering inside, Myarlothe found all the entrance had hinted at, as well as an alert human behind a counter. There were others here, of races she didn't know, huddled by their own in in small groups around tables, nursing drinks. A place to drink and forget then, good. The man at the bartop didn't not relax at her approach, at least not until she dropped a few light-radiating crystals on the counters.<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><span style="color: DeepSkyBlue">"Water..."</span> </span>She croaked, voice pained and strained.<span style="color: DeepSkyBlue"><span style="font-family: 'book antiqua'"> "And a mug of the usual..."</span></span><br/><br/>Once she had received two mugs of both, Myarlothe took them in two of her four hands, and slithered off to the brightest unoccupied corner of the bar. There, she ignored the likely alcoholic drink in favour of dipping her fingers in the water and spreading it out of her gills, moistening them so they didn't dry out and tear. Coiled up, she kept herself busy this way while leering at the other people present, sizing them up for hunter and prey.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>