Not knowing her way around the small town, there wasn't much Sybil could do other than follow Dalious who appeared to be well informed.  Eyes catching sight of the poster, she tried peering around the young man for a better glimpse.  Lips pursing into pensive thought when she saw their illustrations, she looked up at him curiously wondering what they supposed to do now.  One of the appeals about this place had been the fact that no one was supposed to know who they were.  With the wanted posted going up, Sybil didn't feel like the location was safe; she didn't think she would feel safe anywhere anymore.

Following him into the tavern, the music, the overlapping cacophony of voices girl grated on her nerves and she gritted her teeth together.  An unpleasant smell filled her nostrils as she was quite certain these men and women hadn't washed in ages as well.  It wasn't her scene and she hoped they would, as he said, be in and out.

Standing silently beside him, she tuned out his conversation with the shopkeeper and spent her time surveying the areas with her piercing blue eyes until she heard the name Grefolin mentioned.  Turning her attention back towards him, as the dwarf was the second reason they were there, she listened to the news and gave a discontented sigh hearing that they would be forced to stay in that dreadful place for even longer.  Keeping her head down as he led her to one of the tables in the back, she stared at the drink he placed in front of her, head tilting to the side in confusion.

Pulling the pint of ale closer to her, she hesitantly brought the frothy liquid to her lips.  Taking a small sip, she instantly set it back down with her face scrunching up at the bitter and unpleasant taste.  Shaking her head, she held her hands out in front of it to signal she didn't want anymore.  It was disgusting.  

While Dalious proceeded to drink, she listened to the bard.  Swaying to the expert playing of the lute and the woman's melodic tones, Sybil remembered singing with her mother—hymns in the nearly-forgotten language of the old gods kept alive and passed down through the malignant.  It was one of the many things she had often fought with her mother about; she never had wanted to learn the old ways.  She'd always resented her gifts thinking, just as others had, that they were all inherently evil.

As Dalious proceeded to get up and interrupt the bard, Sybil shook her head with a small sigh.  He was drunk.  Looking back to her own pint of ale that she hadn't touched, she supposed it was a good thing she hadn't now—one of them needed to keep their wits about them.

Watching curiously as he took the lute from the woman, she listened to his song paying more attention to the crowd gathering around.  They stomped their feet to the tune, slapped their knees, and cheered.  When he was finished, they all let out a round of applause.  Sybil joined with a smile and a polite clap.  

“I suppose it's not,” she commented when he rejoined the table even if it was a lie—she still hated it.  But he appeared at home and at ease and, with nothing else to do in the meantime, she could tough it out for the moment.  Eyes drifting back towards the bard, she thought about taking the lute to play for herself, much as Dalious did, and singing a song in the ancient tongue.  Sybil refrained, not wanting to speak the language of the old gods and draw anymore attention to herself than she already had.

Glancing at Dalious at his offer to dance, the girl narrowed her eyes at him.  “We are not here for fun,” she stated.  They were there for a reason—they were there for Grefolin.  For a boat.  For a moment to rest.  They were not there to dance.  She looked away.

Although...it did sound appealing.  And the more she thought about his offer the more she found she wanted to take him up on it.  If she was going to be stuck there, there was no need for her to be miserable the entire time.  Turning her gaze back towards him, she changed her mind.  “Fine,” she said.  “One dance.”  She spoke as if she were doing him a favor as she stood and offered him her hand.