Tara was smiling away, flirting lightly with the customers, "Yes Malcolm! Maeve is bringing your meatpie straight away! Mind you don't burn your tongue on it! Aunt Mary Lin pulled them out of the oven just a minute ago!"  Though her words still were american, she already begun dropping into the sing song tones of the accent.  Her cheeks were flushed with the activity and she laughed lightly at a playful kiss on the cheek from one of the young men, who kept asking 'the wee bonnie lass' to come a walkin' with him.<br/><br/>The tone of the place had lightened up as everyone put away the troubles, all the cliches of Ireland showing up in this small town.  A young tenor got up and starting singing a bawdy song then brought uproarious laughter from many in the room.  She was just pulling another Harp for the fiddler, when there was a loud bang!<br/><br/>All hilarity was gone, and people stood up in shock, and with almost herd mentality, they poured from the common room out into the street afore it.  On a little rise before the pub, a bush, half tree in size bloomed in flame.  Murmurings and soft gasp rose from the crowd, young and old.  People were crossing themselves and some hurried away, and even a few ran toward the church.  Tara was right behind them all, the black braid, snaking loose from its bun and trailing down her back.  She wrapped her shawl around her, a chill in her soul at the image before her.  Biblical in its implications to a superstitious village like Sheetrim, she looked around, trying to scan for the culprit.  Turning away from the spectacle, she moved toward the side of the Inn.  It was too coincidental that she had seen something... The question was what?<br/><br/>Creeping, she thought quietly, around the side of the Inn, she hoped that whatever kids had started this fire would be just around the corner.  Proving to the folk here that mischevious kids were what needed to be punished, and not any archaic stories of fairy books.  Her fair skin was light in half darkness, only light freckles peeked out, a dusting on her finely made collar bones.  The sable of her hair blended in but her dark blue eyes caught the moonlight as she looked, her lips pursed in concentration.