[center][h2][b][color=20B2AA] Jandar Varan [/color][/b][/h2][h3][color=20B2AA]Root's Teeth, Dhemlan Terreille[/color][/h3][/center]
Jandar eyed the Tiger-Eye Prince who replied, noting the few observable details about him. The suffering of Terreille had affected him just as it had most of its residents; the man has obviously been lacking proper nutritious food for a while. [color=20B2AA][i]No wonder the trade is what it is here.[/i][/color] The Prince was well-kept and yet, he hadn’t seen fit to have new clothes tailored for him. [color=20B2AA][i]Losing faith, perhaps?[/i][/color] The other male did not seem to care for the storm but neither did he show interest at the fact that the weather would be better by tomorrow – or as he claimed it would be, at the very least. [color=20B2AA][i]Perhaps a specific loss he experienced…or a general apathy? Then the grudge against Eyriens...[/i][/color] Jandar did not allow for any hints of his pondering to show on his face or in his tone as he replied to the Prince. 

[color=20B2AA]“Good. Don’t wan’ta be stuck in one place too long,”[/color] he admitted, keeping his voice to a slightly growling rumble that fit his current persona. The fact he hadn’t intended to be in this particular inn for more than a day or two was a piece of harmless truth he had no misgivings in revealing, but then again, the first rule in lying was always keeping as close to the truth as one could in any case. [color=20B2AA]“Can’t blame the feaver-brains for finkin’ wiv their wings, hn?”[/color] he chuckled, injecting a mocking lilt to the sound that the Prince might take for an agreement with whatever cause the male had to speak of the winged race so venomously – if Jandar was fortunate, the male might even choose to divulge another personal tidbit. He also took a brief moment to discreetly check whether there were any Eyriens in hearing range of his insult, as though he’d not meant it, he could very well get in trouble with an Eyrien if they heard him say as much. And if there were to be a fight, Jandar preferred to see it coming.

In the slight lull of the conversation that followed, a time the Warlord took to enjoy his meal as well as one designed to allow the Tiger-Eye jeweled man to gather his thoughts or answer as he might please, Jandar watched for another sighting of the serving witch who’d offered him his meal. She’d been afraid, terrified really – perhaps she knew the reasons behind the off-putting psychic scent Jandar sensed but could not place the origin of? That would certainly bear investigation – anyone with cause to put such effort into making themselves unassuming did. This line of thought was disrupted when he sensed the crowds shifting around the bar he was sitting at, and Jandar noticed a small golden-eyed dark-eyed figure dressed in rags – either a Hyllian or a Dhemlan, as he hadn’t seen any wings – dance their way through the crowd, heading for the stables. Jandar certainly wanted to see what [i]that[/i] was all about – whether the person was truly simply one of the inn’s affiliates or not – but following right away would be unadvised at best and might disastrously attract the wrong kind of attention to him at worst.

As it was, he took a moment to finish the meal, ale, and his conversation with the Prince, if his temporary conversation partner had any more to offer. Then, after thoroughly cleaning the last bits of stew off his plate and chasing the scant drops of ale with his tongue as he shook the mug over his mouth, he made his farewells. [color=20B2AA]“Jean,”[/color] he gruffly introduced himself to the Prince with a distantly polite nod as he set the empty plate and mug back on the counter to be taken away by whichever of the inn’s employees was responsible for cleaning – and if it happened to be the same as the witch who’d served him in the first place…Well. Jandar intended to find and follow her to the kitchens in any case. [color=20B2AA]“I’m off to visit ‘at pre’y witch,”[/color] he confided with a sly smirk, letting the Prince draw his own conclusions as he would.

Truly, that was exactly what he intended to do, though not quite for the purpose he might have led the other male to believe. Jandar stood up, ambling his way through the crowd, roughly showing away any who did not make scarce at the fierce glower he’d slapped onto his face. He searched for the door to the kitchens, storeroom, or whatever similar backroom space the inn surely employed to prepare the meals and such, then knocked on it firmly once he found it, regardless if the door was closed or not. Whichever serving personnel appeared, Jandar affected a small but pleasant smile, and announced in a low, grumbling, but pleased tone [color=20B2AA]“Wanted t’offer my ‘ppreciation to the cook. An’ ask if you ‘ave a nice apple? For my ‘orse,”[/color] he clarified with a slow, sated blink as he inspected both the person and whatever he might see in the room behind them.