Nila had spent most of the day exploring the village. Having never visited an outsider village, all this was quite strange for her as she wandered the streets looking for some place of lodging. At some point in the day it seemed as though the village began to prepare for some kind of festivity as decorations had begun to be put up. The clan held celebrations, of course, but nothing like this. As she thought of home, Nila remembered the night the clan celebrated its choosing of a new sage. Bonfires were lit around the encampment and her clansmen threw various sands into the fires, each turning the flames a different color. There was feasting, dancing, storytelling, and displays of magic throughout the night. Nila began to wonder and hope that these people's celebrations were as lively as her kin. 

[color=0072bc][i]"Before I do anything, I should probably find shelter"[/i][/color], if she had to, Nila could comfortably sleep outside but she'd hoped to blend in as best she could for the time being. Looking on her own was pointless so reluctantly the elf had to ask a villager for help. After a brief conversation, one she hadn't paid much attention to, the villager pointed Nila to the Dead Horse Inn. After thanking the man, Nila quickly headed towards the tavern, tired beyond belief she plopped herself onto a chair and placed her bag on the table. Sorting through her things she began to wonder if she had anything to cover the cost of a room. [color=0072bc][i]"The Heart is obviously not for sale. Maybe some furs? Perhaps I can work for my stay? This is a tavern, Nila. They've no need for hunters...if only I knew to brew"[/i][/color], Nila dropped her head onto the table, sullen over the fact that she'd most likely be spending the night on the streets. Sleeping in the woods was fine, the village streets and alleys was another thing.