There was no denying that going into the dinner without their weapons was a mistake, but Ada knew that they couldn't really do much to protest - not if they really wanted to attain the knowledge they needed. She reluctantly did as they were told, noting to herself that she still had the small dagger in her corset, thus far unused, in case things got messy.
The dining room wasn't exactly welcoming. It didn't take a genius to notice the tired, ravenous faces of the few remaining pack members and the fact that their eyes were mostly trained on the fuller dishes that sat towards the head of the table. Unequal distribution of meals? Ada's attention flickered to the gentleman at the head of the table and, seeing his healthy glow, quickly began to understand the pack dynamics. Eric, the leader called himself, and though he invited them closer, he didn't seem very interested.
She didn't much like being placed closer to the pack leader, but obediently allowed Az to corral her into a different seat. His hand pressed against the small of her back as they walked and it took everything in Ada's power not to swipe at him. They sat a few seats away from the head, just far enough for the distance to be a hinderance for productive conversation. Although Az wasn't sitting near them, she noticed that his eyes were honed in on the female beside Phillipe (ooc: this is Prue, fyi). As soon as Phillipe sat, the female was only concerned with him. She wasn't the most beautiful of creatures, dark circles under her black eyes and her wiry black hair chopped just below the ears, but they way she held herself indicated a sort of power that the others didn't show.
As the meal began, Ada attempted several times to catch Eric's attentions. Awkwardly failing each try, she would return to her dish. Perhaps it was the atmosphere, the tension, but the food looked remarkably fowl; even the wine seemed atrocious, and with a small sip of it she confirmed that it was undrinkable. A familiar metallic taste lingered on her tongue, but unable to place it she simply ran her spoon through the watery soup and watched the mystery meat bob up to the surface. Against her better judgement she attempted a bite, but it was so tough that she couldn't even chew it enough to swallow. When no-one was watching, she spit it into her napkin and stowed it away under her seat for tossing later.
Phillipe's temper flared before hers could and suddenly the life of the dinner disappeared - not that there had been much life in the first place. Ada felt a chill at Eric's initial response to her. An important guest? Chalking it up as obscured sarcasm, she set down her spoon and lifted her chin, her tawny eyes meeting his unwavering gaze.
"I was hoping that you--," she started, but was cut off by his comment. She didn't like that at all. Why did all the men here look at her like that? Like some plaything? Ada stamped down her agitation and gave him a sweet, obviously forced smile. "That's very kind of you to say. You're very charming. For a wolf." Her gaze hardened. Whatever game he wanted to play, she wasn't about to be swallowed in. "I'm searching for someone who put out a hit through the Hund. I've been told that a ledger is kept to keep track of every hit, but the owner of that ledger is a bit hard to talk to without a scheduled meeting. I've also been told that the brothers of that certain someone may be able to set up a meeting for me. I was hoping that you--."
It was at this point that the girl beside Phillipe rather violently knocked over her wine glass, on accident or purpose it was unclear, sending the contents rolling across the table and onto Ada's lap. Splatters from the original impact of the goblet upon the table sent droplets of the wine up the side of her neck and cheek. Stunned for a moment, Ada quickly pressed napkins into the spill, cursing quietly, her cheeks red as the thunder was stolen from her.
"I'm so sorry," the girl was saying, though it didn't seem genuine. She helped for a few moments to blot the spill, but abandoned it a little too quickly. Her dark eyes fell upon Phillipe, big and sad. "Did I get any on you?" she asked and stroked his arm as if searching for stains.