She looks down at the plate with mesmerization. After looking at them both, slightly bowing to imply simple gratitude, she begins gorging down the food. Small, fox-like snickers escaped her vocal chords as she chowed down on the warm meat. Her ears move underneath her hood, shifting upright, and her tail gains a gentle sway.

She finishes it all quite quick, licking her lips. Her eyes travel along the wolf creature beside her.

" Thank you…truly” she finally takes a couple quick seconds to look in his eyes, this doesn't last long.

After this time of consideration, she scoffs a little, standing up. “I will be back, wait here.”

The least she could do was repay them with a tad more food abundance. After all, she had enough experience hunting to be able to capture a few rodents in a small hike.
She knew she couldn't trust these strangers with any sort of confirmation about who or what she was, but they did give her a touch of kindness. She had to seem somewhat thankful.

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The mage's guild member nods and accepts the stack of letters. "Right. Follow me then."

He leads her back to the circle for phantom missives. 

About an hour and a half later, all the missives are sent.

The mage's guild member returns to the front desk, escorting Vesta and her companion back to the front of the guild hall. "Is there anything else I can assist you with today, ma'am?"

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The barkeep slides the coins off the counter into his apron and then retreats behind the curtain to the kitchen once more.

A minute goes by before he returns with a plate. On it is a rabbit thigh and a bit of bread. He sets it on the counter and slides it over to the beastkin.

"Ain't got much since we ain't had no trade. But we got rabbit at least." He wipes off his hands on his rag and turns to head down the bar to the next customer.

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Zuigrii looks at the bowl on the bar. He pulls out some coins and puts them out to the bar keeper. “If you have anything fresher to eat, I’d appreciate it.”

He turns back to the person seated at the bar. “I know Beastkin are more solitary typically but we’re facing a time where banding together is more and more necessary. My name is Zuigrii. I’ve helped beastkin who have traveled through before and I don’t mind doing it again. What do you need?”

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Her focus was bombarded by an oddly intimidating scent. Quickly she looked beside her to see this large, wolf life creature. What?...what..is he?
She didn't think there were others like her.
Her fur rose, and her pupils narrowed. She looked down, not wanting to face him directly. She just nodded, trying to piece together how anything here was possible.

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After a bit of thought, she nods to him subtly, although her intentions were quite the opposite. She planned to take what she could and leave. This was an unknown, grey area she did not wish to play around with.
She couldn't trust people. Not anymore.

Looking down at the odd…muted pantone colored stew, she picked up the worn metal spoon and stirred it weakly. Hesitantly, she brought a small tasting to her lips. Her eyes got slightly wider, she looked up at the barkeep trying not to show her utter disgust. As she forced a swallow, a cough slipped out from her chest.
Grabbing the mug next to her, she hoped to wash the foul taste out of her mouth, but she was quickly proven otherwise. She groaned at the pungent, revolting flavor of the ale.
She wasn't sure whether to push herself to consume all of this now, or act as though she was full. Or even flat out say it was awful.

She could tell these people were in a pitiful state, a small part of her wondered if she could fetch a bit of game for them to take to their use.

Her focus was bombarded by an oddly intimidating scent. Quickly she looked beside her to see this large, wolf life creature. What?...what..is he?
She didn't think there were others like her.
Her fur rose, and her pupils narrowed. She looked down, not wanting to face him directly. She just nodded, trying to piece together how anything here was possible.

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After a bit of thought, she nods to him subtly, although her intentions were quite the opposite. She planned to take what she could and leave. This was an unknown, grey area she did not wish to play around with.

She couldn't trust people. Not anymore.

Looking down at the odd…muted pantone colored stew, she picked up the worn metal spoon and stirred it weakly. Hesitantly, she brought a small tasting to her lips. Her eyes got slightly wider, she looked up at the barkeep trying not to show her utter disgust. As she forced a swallow, a cough slipped out from her chest.

Grabbing the mug next to her, she hoped to wash the foul taste out of her mouth, but she was quickly proven otherwise. She groaned at the pungent, revolting flavor of the ale.
She wasn't sure whether to push herself to consume all of this now, or act as though she was full. Or even flat out say it was awful.

She could tell these people were in a pitiful state, a small part of her wondered if she could fetch a bit of game for them to take to their use.

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A 7 foot tall beastkin with brown fur and the features of a wolf walks into the tavern and starts heading to one of the tables on the side of the room. About half way there he stops and sniffs the air before walking directly up to the hooded figure at the bar.

“Excuse me for intruding but you’re new in town, yes?” He leans on the bar with one arm. “I’m not usually nosy like this but I’ve seen Beastkin getting confused for werewolves more than usual lately and I’m not one to let someone face that alone.”

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“I do.”

The words come quietly.

Vesta reaches into her bag and withdraws a careful stack of letters, then waits to be led towards the circle.

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The young man stands up from his seat and slides the bag of coins off the counter. He looks into the bag and counts out the coins.

"Uh. Sure. Um. Do you have them ready or...?" His eyes shift from Vesta to Chyevo and back again. 

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Vesta does not return the smile. Instead, she steps forward and places a small pouch of gold coins onto the counter.

“I need to send several missives, please.” She says flatly.

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Eyes turn their way as they enter but whoever looks their way quickly returns to their own business.

The person sitting at the front, smiles as they enter.

"Hi. Can I help you with anything?" The person at the desk appears to be a young human male wearing the blue and silver colors of the mage's guild.

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A Ramtovi woman draped in white moves through the streets with measured, silent steps. A thin white veil is wrapped across her face and hair, soft fabric stirring faintly with each breath she takes. Beside her walks a man dressed in the same pale colors, the pair standing out starkly against the city around them.

Together, they make their way towards the Mage’s Guild, and enter.

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A person wearing a favor with black and red panels enters the tavern and walks up to the missive board. He nails a missive to the board before heading out. These posters are plastered all over Volaire and Seshtau."The people effected by the sleeping curse are moving again.DO NOT BE FOOLED! They are still under the effects of the curse. Until the reason for this can be found, restrain them in a safe area.-Baroness of Seshtau,Jade"

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The barkeep's eyes look her up and down, taking in her features and dress. "Ya got coin? I got food. No coin? Go to the Guild o' Light. They may have a free meal for ya."

He hesitates and then sighs. "Dammit all. Wait here." 

The barkeep turns and walks through a doorway covered by a curtain. He returns a few moments later with a steaming bowl. He sets it on the counter and pushes it towards her. Then he takes the mug and turns to a cask behind him. He fills the mug with a murky looking brew and then turns back and sets it beside the bowl.

"Here. Don' let no one say I ain't do nothin' for no one." He mumbles and watches her.

He looks around, spotting a few people looking their way, he reaches onto the counter and pretends to slide something towards himself. "Go on. Eat. Drink. Ya look like you could use it." 

When she sits at the bar to eat and drink, she finds the bowl is mostly water mixed with some type of leafy plant and a few lumps of meat with the familiar scent and texture of rabbit meat. The mug is full of a murky brown ale that tastes like bitter water.

"Consider it an advance. I 'spect to be paid later." He whispers, leaning over towards her so she can hear him better over the sounds of the tavern.

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She shifted her focus onto the burly, but worn man. Her eyebrows furrowed a bit in annoyance before she quickly drew over her hood, tilting her head down.
Hesitantly, she spoke. "I'm not from this area.. but I was curious if you could spare a little nourishment?”
Her broken accent implied hints of German. Her voice was quiet and still, obviously avoiding any bit of specific information about herself. Shortly after she spoke, a faint growl trickled from her chest. Not out of aggression, but nervousness.

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When the fox enters the tavern, she finds it busy as per usual. The people around the tables and at the bar look thin and worn, tired. But they chat, drink what remains of the liquor and ale, and eat the mostly leafy stew prepared by the kitchen. They cut glances at her and some eyes widen in shock and fear while others appear to be too tired to care much.

As she enters, a man behind the bar looks up. He is a larger man, though he looks as though he has lost weight as his flesh hangs a little loose around his arms and midsection. He has a scruffy beard and a receding hairline of dark hair.

"Oi! Welcome to tha Weepin' Rose! Ain't seen you before, little la- You ain't really a lady are ya? Got those ears and tail..." He picks up a mug and sets it on the bar. "You one a them uh... Beastfolk?"

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 Her golden eyes intricately searched the building she had encountered upon. She lifted her chin to take in the scent of the air, which she found to portray signs of death and decay, but as well a sway of a wholesome welcoming?  Her fur tickled slightly through the wind as she continued. She reached the doors of the unknown, stone-worked building . Hoping to seek a sort of hospitality she could pull into her grasp, she gently laid her hands upon the wooden doors. She slowly pushed them open, a shattered ray of light bestowing upon her orange colored fur. Her ears perked up to detect anything she hadn't already.   After entering, she glared, frantically, examining every inch of what she had now gathered to be some sort of tavern. Dying, or seemingly despondent, commoners lay desperate, slumped against tables. Others give her differently implied looks. Some curious. Some frightened. Some excited.  “Where am I?…” She whispered

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