<div class="floatleft">(http://i43.tinypic.com/16718y9.jpg)</div><strong><em><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"> Lyguardia Fen (Iggy)</span></span></em></strong><br/>Location: Murphy's Tavern<br/>Time: Day 1, Evening<br/>Tagged:Oyohusa Adawehi<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Though there was surprise in the feeling of her hand being encased by the strong Native beside her, it was a pleasant surprise. Iggy smiled faintly, taking a moment to look down at their joined hands. When was the last time she had actually had the chance to hold the hand of a man; just something so simple? It was probably when she was fourteen or fifteen. She hadn't had the chance to feel that warmth in ages, since it didn't really apply as a tender touch when it was a death grip to keep from getting caught by the red and blue lights that were chasing you through city alleyways. Her thought proccess shifted, however, at the thought of his words. A chill attacked her spine at the same moment that Feathertail looked at the lacey woman by the fire."No wonder..." Tapping the duffelbag, she made sure it was still below her, though as the waitress came by, she kept a foot firmly on one of the arm loops. And blinked. Apparently they'd be eating upstairs. Not that she minded. The air in the room had been growing thick and eerie.<br/><br/>Iggy smiled meekly at the young waitress before standing with Oyohusa, an arm out to pick up her bag. Obviously, the woman was far too slow so she simply chose to follow the man, glancing back at the half a spear he left near the door. The conversation with May actually made her laugh, head shaking at his words. He was a proud man, that much was obvious, but at least he wasn't blatantly rude about it. Giving a cheerful, almost calming, smile to May, she spoke a soft, "Thank you. Have a nice evening," before following up the stairs and into the room. As his hand fell away, her's began to feel cold, eyes watching him slip down to the floor.<br/><br/>"That's unnecessary. You think a girl traveling on her own who sleeps in her rusted old truck at night isn't at least a little bit resourceful?" With a wink she crouched down on the floor, unzipping the duffelbag. From it came four small, black devices, as wells a black rod that she stretched out. Placing one of the devices on the windowsill, pressed right up against the wood of the window, she touched a button. A large, green grid covered the window on the inside and out. When she touched the grid, a piercing alarm sounded, which she quickly turned off. Another button and the grid was invisible. "I use these on my truck when I sleep or just don't want to be disturbed. The small ones can cover a full five foot by four foot window. That rod," she pointed to the object at his feet, "can cover anything up to a two-car garage door. They're military grade; few people know of their existence." In consideration of the fact that these were a few of the items the woman had managed to snag from her family's secret arsenal of Marine equipment, she spoke no more, preferring not to mention her family. She continued installing the small grids on the other window in the room, as well as the small one in the bathroom. The door could be left for later, since they were still waiting on there food.<br/><br/>Returning to the room, a longing look was cast at the bed, though she felt too dirty to actually enjoy it at the moment. Thus, she once again rifled through the bag on the floor, replacing the extra device, before pulling out a small bundle of fresh clothes. "I think I'll go ahead and take a quick shower. I feel as if I'm caked in dust." She headed towards the bathroom, almost speaking to herself. "Maybe tomorrow I'll try out that tub. Looks nice." The door closed behind her and for about seven or eight minutes, only the rushing water could be heard through it. Perhaps even a sigh of relief as the boiling hot liquid hit her cold skin. Only a few minutes after the water hushed, she stepped back into the bedroom donning a pair of camo-styled boxers, rolled up at the top to fit her comfortably, and a plain white tank top. Her hair was flipped forward as a towel scrubbed through it, trying to pick up the excess water that it held, while a few glimpses of the bar code tattooed onto the back of her neck could be caught. "I feel amazing now," she laughed, pulling a thin grey jacket on, zipping it only about half way. Iggy sat down on the edge of the bed, smiling at the Feathertail that had begun to grow on her.