Snippet #2472291

After telling the waiter 'whatever tasted good' it wasn’t long before two hot plates of food sat at their table. The contents of Flints appeared to be mostly potatoes and steak, of which Flint had no problems with. He'd immediately began going to town on his plate of food, not bothering to wipe the occasional piece away that found its way into his beard.

“Leaving in the mornin eh?” Flint spat inbetween bites “Tell me, girlie, have you ever been into the mountains before?” Pausing after asking the question Flint pulled the burlap bag closer to himself that he'd received from the Kings court. At the same time he'd noticed the young boy enter back into the room, eying everyone in it cautiously-mainly Flint.

Two empty tables across from Flint and Beth sat four large sully looking men, peasants obviously by their attire but their bodies were large and lean from the constant work they were probably involved in. Of all four men every single eye in the group was transfixed on Flint, each full of hate and intent, a fact Flint either seemed oblivious to or rather simply cared to ignore.