[color=89fdc5]“Columbae.”[/color]

Maverick watched the situation from her new seat (that was so respectfully recommended to her by their new host), and the girl who gave her bad vibes seemed to be some sort of...witch? A magic word ended the conversation between her and another patron, turning the chair into a flock of birds that now were festering about on the ceiling. Great. 

Suddenly, a shudder ran up and down Maverick's spine. An after effect of being shot at. She exhaled and leaned forward, placing her elbows on her thighs and resting her cloth covered chin in her hands. The longer the night went on, the harder it was becoming to stay cool. This was representing an unfortunate trend. She hoped this Presence didn't plan to keep this group of misfits together for long.