[color=#00fa9a][center][h3]Isla[/h3][/center][/color]

Isla rolled her eyes at first when he basically told her to wait, but then she thought that perhaps Lance didn't know what he was going to say or do after all. She stayed quiet though, and followed him to the tavern, entering and feeling a couple eyes turn towards them. It smelled like ale and smoke and musk faintly, conversations flying through the air and the thudding of people playing with darts in one corner. 

Isla slightly bumped into Lance when he stopped up by the counter, taking a small step back afterwards and letting him do his own questioning. He seemed to insist on being quite blunt, despite who she assumed to be the barkeep, acting fairly normal. Her ears perked up to several whispers about the Snakethorn forest, about the man Lance was looking for, and some disgruntled assessments of both Lance and Isla by the locals.

The scooting of stools and chairs across the wood floors assaulted Isla's ears, and she gently gripped one of her daggers under her cloak, unaware if the patrons were leaving or going to surround the two travelers. But heavy boots shuffled away from the pair, out the door, and Isla breathed out calmly. Seemed Lance was right about Moonbright locals just wanting to be left alone.

[color=#00fa9a] "I don't need anything. And yes, I would like to continue traveling along with you as long as you'll have me,"[/color] Isla spoke just loud enough for Lance to hear her. She then turned and headed out, having done her usual routine of counting steps in and out of buildings so she'd know how far to the door. 30 steps and she lifted her hand and it hit the door. She held it open for Lance before pausing in the street that seemed to be getting quieter, the air cooler. It must be evening.

[color=#00fa9a] "Are we continuing East, or shall we stay here for the night?"[/color] the young woman asked, knowing there was likely an inn, but she was also used to camping.