Salina could hear the drunken laughter drifting out into the evening air and her stomach growled. She spurred her white stallion faster as he had begun to drag his feet, kicking up dust in his wake. He was a good horse, intelligent and sound. There had been a few times where his quick thinking was the only thing that kept the angry townsfolk, crying witchcraft, from dragging her away and burning her at the stake.

But they had been travelling all day and he was tired. Truth be told, so was she. Her time on the road was starting to wear on her. She would have liked nothing more than to buy a cottage and live out the rest of her days quietly but she had no skills. She couldn’t weave, cook, farm or anything else that would let her survive so this was her only option. She had to travel from town to town, using her minor gifts to con men and women into paying her for their fortunes.

You wouldn’t think a mere fortune teller would cause so much disturbance in a town but the thing was… Salina’s fortunes had the quirk of coming true. There was a catch, however. More often than not, she saw others’ misfortunes. Nothing caused people to shove coins in her direction with more fervor than a doomsday fortune and advice on how to avoid it. What made them angry was the fact that, even when she tried to help them avoid their misfortune, it befell them anyways and they always blamed her. Thus she was constantly on the run. A fugitive in her own lands. But she had Caspar and the hope that one day she would find a place she could stay for good.

She pulled Caspar to a stop out front and slid out of the saddle. She landed and her knees almost buckled. She bit her lip to stifle a groan at the soreness of her thighs. Running a hand along Caspar’s silky neck she pressed her forehead to his cheek.

[color=30A1FA]“I'll send someone out to take care of you in a moment.”[/color] She murmured to him and tied his reins to the hitching post. She pulled her hood low and took careful stock of her things. Being a traveler, she knows all about thieves.

She stepped into the boisterous great room of the Nail In The Coffin, and paused by the door. Her silver eyes scanned the room, naturally eyeing patrons she thought were gullible enough to pay her. But before she got down to business, she needed food and a good drink. She picked her way across the room, keeping her head down and approached the barkeep.

[color=30A1FA]“Red wine and whatever you're serving for dinner, please. And someone to take care of my horse.The white stallion.”[/color] She said sweetly. She slid her hand inside her coin purse and found it uncomfortable light. She would have to stay here for a while. She just hopped the mob would wait for a few days before gathering their torches and pitchforks.