[hr][hr][center][h2][b][i][color=b8860b]Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h2][/center]
[b][center][color=b8860b]Location:[/color] Crossed Swords Inn & Tavern [/center][/b][b][center][color=b8860b]Interacting With:[/color] Sana, Thomas, Satilla [/center][/b][hr][hr]

	Deep down, Keystone figured that Kyra was a talented and inspiring woman who rose to her position of authority within the Elven kingdom due to merit and ability. He held onto this belief despite her continued explosions of temper. The big man was once a slave to his tides of indomitable rage. Moreso, anyway. It was a process. Maybe it would do no small amount of good for the woman to walk the path of the Monk for a year. Keystone could even help in this endeavor. Of course, not everyone was suited to setting foot after foot in front of one another down that particular path. 

	But for right then, Keystone sighed heavily and shook his head. Yeah, maybe she was right. But all this drama really wasn't helping matters. Part of him was just a little jealous, too; if anyone was the type to make a scene and storm off angrily, it really ought to have been him. There was a subtle art to it, if one wanted to use it for intimidation factor later on. It was a perfectly reasonable tactic to make people pliant. But he suspected that Kyra's explosion and exit were less purposed than that. Sana made a good point as well, as Keystone agreed to openly after Kyra's exit. [color=b8860b]"Bloody well right. Girl'd do good havin' a meal an' rest. Mayhap some personal attentions, if y'take my meaning, but I ain't sayin' that faceward at 'er."[/color] He shook his head as if to illustrate his point. 

	Keystone gestured to the food again, silently suggesting that everybody eat up. Anyone who spent more than a day in town, or who had spoken to [color=b8860b]"Look, I says we dummy up like Miss Kyra's screamin' on about. Damage done is done, addin' any more's just foolish. Let's talk on this in more private environs after a while, yeah? What d'you lot reckon on it?"[/color] He thought to his room, already purchased and available for use. It might suffice, unless there was another more fitting one already reserved for someone in their group, such as they were. 

	Then he noticed the pressure on his shoulder provided by the scarred Gypsy. Sana had decided to take her leave of the table, moving unsteadily to the stairs. Etiquette and propriety weren't exactly his stronger points. Perhaps this is why it took him until she was already climbing the stairs to offer his assistance. He rose from the table and took a couple of steps toward her. Pausing in the common area, he spoke plainly, [color=b8860b]"You ain't lookin' quite tops yet, Miss Sana. Lemme give you a arm to lean on till you're settled in, alright?"[/color]