In the corner of the inn's main room, seated with her back to the wall and draped in a heavy mix of armors and furs, was Dura gra-Shurk. The orc woman passively watched the crowd as they came and went, ate and partied. Her mask was off, lying on the table next to her, as she nursed a flagon of mead slowly. She always found it enjoyable to take her time, for time is a luxury that she has been able to enjoy plenty. She yawned and swept her vision across the room again. The cat was probably the most interesting thing there. In the times she's traveled in Skyrim, cats have always been a rare sight. Minor as it was, it was the most unusual thing here and that was about the only reason why she watched it as it moved between patrons. And besides, even with sensation of cold diminished by her vampiric nature, it was warm in the inn and the mead was good. She could afford to wait a bit longer before starting the climb to Hrothgar.