| Var |
Var allowed her lips to curl with the faintest beginning of a smirk. He was a monster hunter, and clearly, a long way from home. Which, hopefully, meant he was leaving here within a day or so. If she was lucky, he'd only stopped in for a drink, and would be gone long before the crack of dawn. She wasn't sure if Dragonborn slept as long as humans, but she had some wax candles in her backpack, and it would be easy enough to set up a clock to wake her early. Of course, that may not be necessary, if she could convince him to take her along. She didn't require a man to protect her, but she had limited geographical knowledge of official pathways, and the forest tended to be exceptionally slow in some areas. Besides, there was safety in numbers, and while she knew her way round a short sword, a tele-panther bigger then a Dragonborn wasn't something she really wanted to run into, alone, in the woods.
Swinging around to face him, she took a shot of her bourbon, allowing the fermented spirit to trail metaphorical flames down her throat, where they pooled in her belly. While she hadn't originally planned on consuming the drink, a bit of liquid courage would not go amiss in such a situation. Although Var was not above manipulation, honesty was a better course with certain species. She figured a Dragonborn would appreciate a more blunt, to the point approach, without all the falsified interest, and probing questions. Flicking her eyes over to the barkeep for a moment, she returned her attention to the man before her. However, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the men still lingered, whispering among themselves. Her eyes narrowed, her voice sharpening to a rigid, cold point.
"Most races would be content to allow others to dispose of their problems, but consequently, prefer such people remain out of sight, and therefore, out of mind. It makes it considerably easier to maintain an illusion of safety and control." While before, the men had simply whispered and stared, she felt the affect of her words within moments, comparable to dropping a match in a dry grove. Anger keened in the rising of voices, the feel of the room changing in front of her. It was hard to tell if the cause was because of her words, or her gender, but caring about others opinions had never been her strong suit.