The salad was bland, without any sort of dressing or seasoning, and not the freshest leaves of cabbage or tomatoes either. A quick casting of Prestidigitation does the trick, snuck in while the barkeep wasn't looking at her. Nibbling her greens quietly, she started thinking of her off again-on again lover... Aegina. Thinking of the soft touch of her sun kissed skin, the silkiness of her curly brown locks, the small meadow she called home where they had their arguments and the passionate sessions of bliss as they made up again. It was times like this where Shira hated the wanderlust that afflicts her species, and missed sleeping in the shade of a tree, curled up in the warm embrace of her nymph. Taking out one of her thin sheets of tattoo design paper, and her sketching lead, she began to write out a letter to Aegina.<br/><br/><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>                            </td><td>Sweet love,<br/>            I miss you terribly. I would come to visit you for you are only a full day's flight away, but I have been hired to guide a mercenary into the caverns of the Underdark to hunt drow. As soon as I return from below, I will visit you, my love. Dream of me fondly. For I dream of you in your most exquisite... Twined around my body as we sleep peacefully beneath the branches of the great oak.<br/>                                                    I love you.<br/>                                                      Shira'nuar </td><td>                                                </td></tr></tbody></table><br/>Just as she finishes signing the letter, her eyes catch a woman who has just come down from upstairs, turning towards the tavern main. Smiling softly, she kisses the letter and folds it tightly. "Barkeep? Can I bother you for a small piece of raw meat?" The barkeep stared her down as if she was an Illithid or something, and went into the kitchen. When he returned, he practically threw the tiny bit of cubed beef at her, and sent her a glare that read as 'Don't ask for anything else, outsider.' Still smiling, she paid for the meal and went right outside the tavern door, where she held her arm up and blew a soft whistle, almost a coo. The soft ruffle of feathers and return cooing sound  was all that Shira got to warn her before the small barn owl landed on her arm and started nosing for the small cube of meat. Offering the snack to the owl, she stroked its back softly, then tied the tightly folded letter to its leg. Whispering softly into its ear, she lifted her arm and the bird flew off... to a small glade a full day's flight away.