Lon's smile faltered, just for a second, before it reappeared, perhaps a bit forced. "Charmed, Joli," he said,  and bowed slightly,shifting his pack onto one shoulder as he continued to stand there awkwardly, in front of the table. "I'm not from around here either, and had hoped perhaps for a bit of pleasant conversation before turning in, but I would not want to inconvenience you during your meal. Nor would I dream of inconveniencing your uncle," he added dryly. He paused, frowning at her slightly, his expression almost conveying a sense of hurt, before cocking his head and turning on one heel as if to leave. Before he actually left, however, he spun back, gesturing with his mug as a mixture of thoughtfulness and rakish determination crossed his face.<br/><br/>"Although, I have been quite curious about the caravans," he said, and slid quietly into a nearby seat, "as I have never been on one, having traveled far and wide carried only by the spring of my step and the wind at my back. Do you think he would mind regaling me with tales of the road?" Lon slid his mug onto the table, and propped up his elbows around it, weaving his fingers together over the cup to form a little table on which to rest his chin as he stared with doe eyed wonder back at Joli.<br/><br/>He followed her gaze down to the soup, and blinked innocently. "Oh, please go ahead and eat. As I said, I'd hate to inconvenience you during your meal; the food here is quite good, I assure you from experience." He smiled slightly, almost mischievously. "Just pretend I'm not here," he added, as he continued to gaze at her with what appeared to be complete and utter fascination. His ears, however, were quite perked, listening carefully to the sounds of the bar around him.