It was raining heavily. His robes weren't exactly waterproof, so he quickened his pace towards his destination: the tavern. Walking intensely into it, he stopped put, his eyes scanning the place. There were no water leaks here, but he was not fond of the place altogether. Too many people kept him restless, while the sight of swords and chainmail upset him to the point of reaching for his hidden daggers on his belt, inside of his robes. He knew they could not see him, but a hooded person was always somebody to look down upon. With the edge of his eyes, he caught a Musus of interest looking at him, and he instantly fixed his gaze on her. She was drinking from a glass of water, a sign attached to a pole on her table. Reading it from afar, he walked towards her, his hand never leaving the hilt of his dagger.
He sat on the table on the chair as far away from the female Musus as he could, without uttering a single word.