"Yes, why not?" Amal asked casually, once Charynrae stepped past the bouncer and into the corridor. "Or maybe somewhere south from here. The weather is too cold up here. The liquor is too bitter and the women are too clothed." It was difficult to tell if he was joking or not. The thief spoke in a manner that was both candid yet flippant enough to seem too casual to be true. The two found a small corner table, only shared by a dwarf who had fallen asleep after four full mugs. He snored noisily, but at least it proved he was still asleep. 

Amal held his hand up, waiting for the barman until he saw, giving the Calimshan man a nod. Amal grinned and set his hand back down. 

"It's good to be someplace warm, finally." He confessed, turning back to Charynrae. He rested his fine chin on the palm of his hand, elbow resting on the table. The past week had been rough, even for someone used to harsh living like Amal. But Charynrae seemed tireless throughout it. He was actually impressed. She was wicked, ruthless, relentless, and quite pretty when she decided to show her face. Even now he could see the tip of her well proportioned nose and the silhouette of her heart-shaped face as she turned, glancing about for potential knives from behind. 

"You never told me what your plans were for when we reached civilization." He reminded her. Behind Charynrae, he saw the barman point a waitress to head to their table, a comely woman with laugh lines and brown curls cascading down her back. She looked as tired as Amal felt. He only saw the waitress and the barman for a brief glimpse, however, eyes flicking back to the dark elf. "There's really no reason for us to keep traveling together unless there is some profit in it. That or you've grown to like me." 

He flashed a grin. "Either way, I would know now how you feel on that score, so I can start thinking about where to go next. Am I having a traveling companion still, or shall we bid goodbye after a drink?"