Licking my lips and doing my best to not drool, as I step into the hall and take a look around. Sniffing the air and getting a sense of the sweat and sawdust on the floor, along with the meat and mead in the area. Trying my best to not look too desperate for food, as today has been a long day of hardship and turmoil. Walking my way over to an empty table and take a seat, my bare butt to the wood and letting the cloak loft down my back and over the chair. Waiting to see if anyone will bother to get me some food, or if I should get some myself? Human customs are always so confusing...