Densha had only looked away for a moment, waiting until she thought it was safe to look back, and jolted slightly when she saw that the dark-clothed man was directly beside her.

He spoke to her in a low, smooth tone, and made a hand gesture to another table, inviting her to sit with him. He was evidently trying to seem pleasant, but Densha had already seen the way he looked at the halfling and at the other inn goers. That stare was full of distaste, even loathing; he looked at her now with those dead eyes, and she stared back into them, as if staring into an endless chasm.

[i]What does he want with me?[/i] Densha thought. He had obviously caught her staring. Maybe he thought she was romantically interested. Maybe he overheard her conversation with the barmaid. Maybe he knows Y… or plans to collect the bounty on his head before she can.

As these thoughts stirred gently in her mind, she thought of how she could best play this in her favor. After a moment, she responded in a cool, collected voice.

“Yes, sure. I’m Densha,” she said, getting up from her table and following him to the adjacent one. She smiled confidently. “And you?”