Watching the morning light seep into the room, Ithi'Ka sits on a bed she has not slept in.  Her gray, tapered ears strain for the sounds of the inn's keeping, so she can know what is the time to descend to the main room without alarming the staff, or seeming too odd, or making herself a spectacle.  Drow are seen on the surface here, but she is unlike those others.<i>Unsocialized</i>, she'd been called.<i>Strange.</i>She listens for doors, for chatter... the things these people do in the light.<br/>When she's satisfied, she rises to her feet... she has been dressed for an hour or two, perhaps more, in a simple cotton tunic, the chill seeping into her, listening for what the shadows here will say... they offer little.  She reaches for her matte-gray and black leathers, knowing she will not return to this room.