<div class="floatleft">(http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab235/bloodiedporcelain/elcharacterpics/childedit1.jpg)</div><em>Solfiria Character Post</em><br/><strong>Time of day beginning post</strong>: 1-2 pm-ish<br/><strong>Time of day ending post</strong>: 1-2 pm-ish<br/><strong>Location beginning post</strong>: Outside the Bold Bison<br/><strong>Location ending post</strong>: Inside the Bold Bison<br/><strong>Characters currently interacting with</strong>: Nemea, Holly<br/><strong>GM Intervention Request\Required?</strong>No<br/><hr/><br/>"Oh, for the love of..." Sol began under her breat as the dryad called out to her. Really?! She wanted to shout at people to make up their damn minds, to decide inside or out or to let her go on her way without being followed around, but the veiled woman lifted a tiny hand to rub at the imprint between her eyes, fingertips rubbing the downward facing half-sun. This was almost half the reason why she disliked being around people... they were so fickle and eager to disagree with and bug each other over almost anything. Sighing some, Sol paused just outside the Inn door and watched the dryad and elf argue with each other.<br/><br/>This was seriously starting to get old. The elf wanted her to go inside... the dryad insisted it was a bad idea and they were better off in the forest (though honestly even Sol thought that was ludicrous... she'd chance an open field during a storm if for no other reason than there was less likelihood of falling/flying tree branches. After a moment of standing there, entirely unsure what to do, Sol finally rolled her eyes. Her head was starting to throb from all this disagreement between people, including herself. Fuck it. She needed a drink now anyway, and she'd forgotten to fill her wine skin while she was inside.<br/><br/>"I'm getting a drink," she finally announced in a voice just barely loud enough to be heard over the rumble of thunder above them. "You two sort this mess out." And with that, she turned on her heel to head back inside. She did not, however, make her way back to the same table as before, and instead moved to the bar, looking for an open seat and an opportunity to order something to drink. Preferably something stiff that would help curb the throbbing in her temples.