Beren did notice how extravagantly pretty Bonnie was, but whenever their was a dog in the room his eyes drew towards that instead. He always liked dogs. Loyal, loving, and helpful beasts. Truth be told he loved all animals, though he was still an eater of meat. There was something about a dog though that he gravitated towards, and they gravitated towards him as well. Before he could call to one to have them come over to pet, the woman spoke and finally that drew his attention. Both he and the dogs seemed to shudder at the sound, but he hid it well on his face when he turned to her. 

Whereas Jocasta had an almost silken silver to her hair, Bonnie's hair was strawberry blonde. Bonnie's lips were soft pillows and her face was shaped like a statue's impeccable countenance, and Beren could see why this was a popular place if one could just look at her while they ate. He glanced to Jocasta, her face was more vixen-like, and the mischief in her eyes was endearing to him. Had he been most men, he would have had all manner of fantasies in his head of the two beautiful women speaking with himself almost sandwiched between them, but as it were he was far too hungry. Plus that simply wasn't his manner.

"Some water for me, and a loaded potato?" He asked hopefully. 

"It's your lucky day, we still have a few potatoes from the coast that had been shipped up here. I'll see about getting some beef and cheese, but we're running out of pork and onions. Honestly if we hadn't gotten so little in the way of commerce and travelers this year, we'd have to tighten our belts for another three months." She explained conversationally. Beren wished she didn't. He was impressed at the grating, cat-choking voice that still erupted from her. 

"Thanks, and do you take doubloons?" He wondered, brows raised. He produced three, watching her face. 

"Yeah, sure." She said to his relief, and he handed them to her. Jocasta would know that amount roughly equaled an Andredian gold piece. "And for you?" 

"Well so much for my order of pulled pork," Jocasta said with a helpless shrug. 

"Honey, please." Beren said with a tongue-in-cheek roll of his eyes to play along. 

She tapped her chin, looking around the room at a few of the dishes to see what was available. "Beef brisket and...what are those little berries?" 

"Falta Berries. They're pretty good. Sort of like grapes and strawberries put together. They grow up here." 

"Oh I'd like some too," Beren added. 

"Don't worry, it'll be a good sized bowl. Ok sit in a corner, but it'll probably be a tight squeeze. Be there soon." She said, interrupted at the end by a call from a customer across the bar. She cried out "coming!" and it was physically painful to the ear. Beren and Jocasta hurried to their seat. 

They passed by the mercenaries, a few of the wearing the black tabards of the Lions, but another four wore mix-and-match gear, showing they were freelancers. A few of them laughed and jeered, tossing cards and swigging drink while at least three seemed to be on the verge of violence with one another. As Beren passed them, he found he was near the mastiffs. He knelt down, not afraid to get bitten and let his hand out to get sniffed. The farmers chuckled, and the closest said. "Looks like old Gorman likes you." He said, petting the dog as he sniffed Beren's hand. 

"Good fella," Beren whispered, giving the dogs a few pets as they took in a good few whiffs of his offered hand. It only took a moment, and he got up and followed in Jocasta's wake to their two person booth. Unfortunately, Beren wasn't the only one. 

As they sat down at their little booth side-by-side, a man approached. One of the mercenaries, wearing a black tabard with the symbol of a Lion. He looked at Beren appraisingly and Jocasta with interest. 

"Where you from?" He asked conversationally, placing one hand on the table. Alcohol covered his breath. Beren remembered what the guards had said, and he felt this was just shit luck. 

"Varone," Jocasta replied quickly, placing a hand on Beren's arm to keep him from speaking. It was a good cover; far enough south to be truly foreign but well-known enough to still be recognizable. "We're just two travelers heading to Iskura." 

"Really? Just two travelers?" He echoed, and to both of their surprise his eyes fell on Jocasta, or more specifically, her bosom. "So, you're not... together." 

"I confess I'm a prized commodity," She said with a facetious smile, innocently batting her lashes. Beren had no idea what was going on. At first he was afraid of being connected to the caravan, but now this looked like a drunk man flirting. Was it both? He guessed so... 

"Where's this from?" the mercenary asked, reaching down to the andernic torque that hung at the crest of her chest. 

Beren casually grabbed his arm before it got to her. It had been easy, since he had to lean just by him to reach for Jocasta. The mercenary blinked and looked at him, amusement warring with annoyance. 

"Look man," the merc said, almost overwhelming Beren with the poor breath that accompanied the miasma of alcohol. "I noticed her bottom passing me by, and now I see it's matched up top. Let me work here."  

"Oh, pfft yeah of course. Is that all? Sure." Beren said, but didn't let go of his arm. In fact his grip tightened. 

"If I were you, I would let go." The mercenary said, eyes flashing dangerously. 

"If you were me, you'd actually be charming." Beren replied back without a beat. 

The man, though drunk, reached quickly for something at his belt. Likely a knife. Beren's fist was quicker, snapping like a cobra-strike into his face. He made sure not to hit the nose so as not to bloody the table, and as the merc staggered back, Beren got up and followed. The merc caught himself and reacted with a swift punch to Beren's midsection. Beren raised his knee in a block, and then snapped his leg up to take the man under the chin. He stumbled back and hit a few of his 'friends,' who looked just as pissed at him for knocking over some drinks as they did at Beren. 

The other two Lions stood up, one holding a crossbow (albeit not yet aimed) and the other with his hand on the hilt of his schiavona. Beren held up his hands, smiling guiltily. "Just want to drink alone fellas." 

"Bastard!" The pervert said, taking out his thick bladed knife. Beren looked at the other two to see if they wanted to intervene, hopefully to stop him rather than help him to kill Beren. Just as the three began to move, Beren's meal, sleeping arrangements, and maybe life on the line, there was a strangled noise that curdled everyone's blood. 

"Hey! Not in here!" Bonnie cried, walking up with two plates of food. How could someone so gorgeous sound like that? She glared at the lions, not giving them a piece of her mind but not backing down either. They looked at her and then to one another, the crossbowman stepping over to pat his perverted friend on the back. The freelance mercenaries watched and grinned, and began to drink again. 

"Let's go." the crossbowman said, eyes flickering to Beren and then Bonnie before guiding his drunken friend and the third (who glared at them) away. 

"Sorry," Beren apologized earnestly, sitting back down beside Jocasta. Bonnie watched them leave, and once they were gone she set the food, the berries, and drinks down before the two hungry adventurers. Their mouths immediately watered at the assault of smells from the food.  

"Don't be. That was dumb of you, but I'm glad those assholes are gone." She said, and placed her hands on her shapely hips, smiling. "Wish my last boyfriend had the guts to do that for me. You'll get the wine on the house, let me know if you need anything else." She offered. 

Beren laughed the compliment off, and thanked her before she walked away. He looked at Jocasta's, shrugging with a dramatic air about him. "Danger follows me wherever I go, tis a curse." He facetiously deigned to explain as if they were in a melodrama.