The cold sobered her up quickly and the lingering warmth of that red coat as she pressed it closer to her chest was a sharp reminder of what she had done. She tried to dismiss the weight of her guilt as something silly – a harmless prank. There was still time to toss the coat next to the door and forget all about its existence. Surely the owner would get up, look for it, curse that it had been taken, only to find a happy surprise once he left. She would leave it, there, within eyesight to anyone exiting the tavern. But her nearly immediate remorse really did force the question up to the surface of her mind. Why had she taken it in the first place? 

Because it reminded her of Roen…

She grimaced and closed her eyes tightly for a moment. This was a stupid and impulsive thing to do, and the sort of thing that could very well put her in harm's way. There wasn’t much left to live, and she didn’t exactly understand her purpose in existing, but there was one resounding and powerful compulsion that continued to propel her forward – survival. 

“No harm, no foul,” she said out loud to herself as she began to bend down into a crouch. She intended to arrange the coat neatly and leave it behind. But just then the door swung open and she was literally caught red-handed.

There wasn’t time enough to try and stuff the coat away inside her own cloak. There wasn’t even time enough to try and pretend some sort of mistake had been made. She could only stand there, halfway to the ground, and watch with wide eyes, as a massive creature of a man from earlier emerged from the warm comfort of the tavern. He made eye contact with her, a passing glance that denoted what a gentleman he was since he did not comment on her illicit activities. He merely stepped around her, and past her, and went to take a seat on a nearby stump.

Frozen in place, Gabriela let out a slow breath before turning to glance over her shoulder. The man had come out and was sitting now facing her direction. He seemed perplexed – he was murmuring to himself – and that made her feel a little better. His mind must have been elsewhere and surely he wasn’t out here to investigate the mysterious disappearance of a tacky red coat. Slowly, she stood and straightened, still hanging on to the coat. 

[i]“Hey. I appreciate the kindness you showed my daughter.”[/i]

The little girl had belonged to him.

Gabriela nodded her head.

[i]“And I agree with her, you are very beautiful. But what brings you out here?”[/i]

It was a blessing that her blood ran too cold to allow for a blush to paint her cheeks. But the truth of it was that compliments made her feel bashful. She had been receiving them all her life, of course, but there was just something marginally embarrassing about having a complete stranger comment on your appearance. It caused her to reach up and push a strand of hair out of her face, to tuck it behind her ear. 

“Your daughter was very sweet,” Gabriela offered quietly but made no reply about the kind compliment. “And, I was just on my way out now. It’s late…” she glanced around, it was night – she hadn’t been aware that it was daylight within the Tavern. Surely it had been synthetic light or she would have been in massive amounts of pain.

[i]“Nice coat,” [/i]he said and at this, her body could not help but respond. 

A dusting of pink colored her cheeks – just the faintest blush. But before she could say anything, he was standing and urging her to wait a moment. And then he was gone, back inside, and she was left to stand there with her heart thundering. 

Did he mean to go and tell the owner of the coat that she was about to take off with it? Was he calling for guards – or perhaps to fetch a weapon? Panic prickled her scalp and she had to turn and glance through a window, but she could see nothing of the interior. 

And then he was back, and much to her relief, alone. He was carrying a dark bottle, with amber liquid inside.

[i]“Now we’re both thieves. Common ground and all that.”[/i]

She stood there, the petite thing that she was, with her eyes set intently on Salvador as he took a swing from the bottle. A part of her wanted to protest the fact that she had been called a thief, but the more logical part of her mind acknowledge that she was exactly that – a petty little thief. 

“No,” she began, rather certain of herself, “no – I didn’t steal it. I just, it was a mistake. I was going to leave it here.” 

She bundled up the coat and took notice of the strange dog-like ornaments on the shoulders – she frowned. Then finished semi-folding it before setting it down beside the door. 

“There, I am sure it will get back to its owner.”