[center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/b3RmLjcyLmQ2MDAwMC5TMnBsYkd4bWNtbGsuMA,,/norse.bold.png[/img][/center] [hr] Her eyes looked about the port, seeing the massive crowd of people milling about, some in their normal business and others in confusion. Kjellfrid had never been to Caracas, the Harolds had merely not had the chance to take her here before they were slain by the Wolves in Redcliffe. She could remember their blood flying into the air before losing her own consciousness. How she wished that they would have just killed her as well. Kjellfrid shook the memories from her head and wrapped her scarlet cloak around her, stepping through the thick crowd and being sure to avoid bumping into anyone. The Brith’s eyes scanned the building as she looked for the tavern mentioned within the letter, though she almost jumped when someone next to her called out to whom she would presume to be a friend. Her hand, almost had almost wrapped around the hilt of her dagger before her claws had caught the inside of her hand. She shook her hand and attempted to calm herself so her claws would retract, though her mind seemed to be ever on edge. Though with claws being out, she found them being chewed upon, her teeth clipping against the sharp edges and dulling them ever slightly. Kjellfrid soon found herself back towards the docks, almost confused as to how she had gone in a complete circle, she was content to be facing the bay and port. Soon though, she would be whistling a somber tune. [color=red]”I'll swim and sail on savage seas With ne'er a fear of drowning..”[/color] she began singing with a voice slightly cracking. She looked around to make sure no one watched her. [color=red]”And gladly ride the waves of life, If they would have me...”[/color] Kjellfrid continued. [color=red]”No scorching sun Nor freezing cold…”[/color] The Brith took a deep breath as her eyes settled on the busy port, watching the ships and boats move about before a small smile came across her face. The start of the song was ever present in her mind, remembering the song that she would sing with the Harolds when she doubted that she would properly be one of them. Even remembering the rest that they had ad libbed when she had grown too timid to continue. [color=red]”And we’d have you for eternity Our dearest one, our darling dear…”[/color] her voice growing more confident and enough to match her compatriots. Her feet ponding against the dock below her to provide the beat she remembered had been played. [color=red]”Your mighty words astound us But we've no need of mighty deeds When we feel your arms around us!” “But I wo-”[/color] Though, as she went to continue with a song so merry, Kjellfrid could not help but flashback to the swords that had cut down the very ones who had sung with her. It almost brought back the same feelings that ran through her mind after she had awoken to the company of the damned nobles that had ordered the attack, the fear and grief that followed her had infected one of the best songs that no other ears had ever heard. She let out a saddened sigh as she could already imagine Lady Lucilia or Lord Lion chastising her for not finding the location she had to go to yet. With that fear firmly wrapped in her mind, she turned back to the crowd, now with her head down. She stepped to it once more as she made her way back to the buildings she had originally sought to do. Her eyes scanned the buildings as she squeezed her way through the stagnant crowd, trying her best to remain away from the gathering to little avail. Kjellfrid, stopped for a moment and eventually sighted a building with vines flowing and what she would assume to be barrels of some drink outside. She made her way to that with a hope that it was the proper location, though, low and behold it did seem to be the correct place. Though, once more did she turn to view the surrounding area, seeing a guard threatening a man with a sword, to which she nearly backed into one of the barrels clutching at her cloak and tugging it downwards. Her breathing grew heavier and heavier as her nerves began to get the better of her. Was this city too under the influence of a family like the Wolframs? She forced herself to look away and ducked into the tavern as quickly as she could, forcing her way between people at that point into an almost equally dense interior. Kjellfrid nervously looked around, her nerves still tormenting her mind with the breathing of someone with anxiety. Her form shifted between people before she sat herself at a table she had thought was empty, only to look up to see the form of a tiefling. He looked fierce, intimidating, enough for her to keep her eyes to the ground, her claws digging into the table, though she refused to move for her newfound seat as it seemed to be the only one available.