Melly had disappeared into the crowd by the time the weaselfolk had caught up with them. Turning, Hart was mildly surprised to see a large weasel hefting a longbow. The crowd had already started to part, most people didn't particularly like the presence of the supposedly barbaric weaselfolk. With an arrow notched, the weasel demanded Hart give him a reason not to alert the authorities. The weasel must have had sharp eyes, because to the rest of the crowd it merely looked like a youth fighting for the favor of a girl. The weasel was a tall, large creature, and Hart had no intention of getting into a fight with this person. Very carefully he began to back up.

[b]"Sorry, Sirrah,"[/b] Hart said plainly, [b]"That snobby aristocrat was being inappropriately forthcoming with a friend of mine."[/b] Hart paused.

He gave a quick look around, analyzing his surroundings. Turning back to the weasel, he smirked. [b]"You have made one mistake though. People don't really like it when weapons are drawn."[/b]

Suddenly, his face took on a innocent, but terrified look. [b]"HELP! Brigand! Help me!"[/b] He yelled at the top of his lungs, pointing at the large weaselfolk. The effect was rapid, people immediately took note of the 6 foot something weasel folk bearing a weapon, seemingly accosting a much shorter and smaller youth. A few adults stepped forward to deal with the supposed brigand, and Hart pushed into the crowd. Hart would stay in the crowd, where the weasel couldn't get a straight shot with his bow. Unless the weasel was alright firing into a crowd in which case there would be a much bigger problem at hand. Hart weaved through the crowd easily, his small size and slippery nature allowing him to pass with no more than a dirty look from some passerbys.

Weaving through the crowd led him to the Jolly Hippogriff tavern, to which he quickly strode into. The tavern was a crowded, noisy place, filled with drunkards and alcohol. The main floor itself was a very homely room, made of dark woods, given an orange glow from the huge fireplace in the center of the back wall. Bards told stories to whoever would listen, and people merrily joked with one another. Hart took a seat at the end of the bar, closest to the kitchen door. In the corner of his eye, he could easily see the main door of the establishment. Waving a hand to signal ordering a drink, his other hand remained in his pocket.