When the two of them entered the tavern and the to Freya familiar scents belonging to one entered her nose, Freya couldn't honestly say that she didn't like to smell the scents. Not because the scent of sweat and alcoholic drinks were pleasant to her, but because she always linked a tavern with a certain type of safety, and the smell belonging to it reminded her of that. After all, a fair amount of an average tavern's visitors were either too busy with something else to notice her, or simply enough too drunk. And the owner wouldn't exactly care who visited, as long as they paid for his service.

When Harol mentioned Noddy, Freya looked at him for a moment. He was quite remarkable, being so different from all other guests in the tavern. "You better be right about how much you can trust that man." Freya said to Harol, before she started walking towards the table the man was sitting at.

When one man, who Freya assumed was drunk proceeded to slap her butt as she passed, Freya stopped walking, grabbed the man's wrist and forced it onto his back in an uncomfortable and painful position. "Do that again, and I will cut your hand off. Understood?" She threatened as she glared at the man, her voice icy cold, unfriendly, threatening and intimidating, and an angered look in her eyes. When she continued to walk she could hear the insults shouted to her loud and clear, but she decided to ignore it.

When she reached the table Noddy was sitting at she stopped walking again and took place at the chair in front of Noddy, looking at him. "My friend has been told to ask your help when in trouble. He and I are in trouble right now." She said, still looking at him.