Joli absorbs the conversation around the room, studying the relative strengths as they are apparent-- strangely, when she stands up now, tankard still in hand, she moves with an easy grace and confidence, every trace of the overwhelming shyness gone.  She drains the last of the tankard and sets it back onto the table, then leans over it-- the blonde girl's old leather creaks softly when she leans over the table, her slender, pale hands resting casually to support her.  From her stance, one might think the diminutive girl owns the place, but to Alchfrid's study she doesn't appear to be a trained fighter.<br/><br/>"Well, gentlemen," she makes an appraisal of Lon with a twinkle in the blues of her eyes, "I think we're going to get along fine."  She turns her gaze to Alchfrid, answering his question.  "I'll be at the wagons in the morning, and I'm guessing-- just maybe-- you will be, too."  She grins over at Balfor then, one long-lashed eye closing as she straightens and gives a languid, catlike stretch that, while robbed of being truly bawdy under the armor and cloak, is nonetheless provocative in its own right.  "I hope we get our chance to ride together," she says with a suggestive quirk of her eyebrow, "I can't wait to see if your prowess is up to your claims," she adds to Lon, then laughs lightly and hoists her pack from beside the table.<br/><br/>~<br/><br/>Joli approaches Raine among the crowd, and places one hand on the fighter's armored shoulder.  "Excuse me," she says, her voice husky and honey-thick.  "May I have a word?"  She gestures toward the open end of the room, a disarming smile lingering at her lips.