[color=silver][center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjExNi44YWJhYzIuUTJGd2NtbGpZMmx2LjI/great-vibes.regular.webp[/img][/center]

And so the night crept ever closer.

Capriccio wasn't sure how many hours he'd spent in his spot on the balcony, absentmindedly composing a song he was only half-serious about, but no amount would've surprised him. He'd downed his sickly sweet ale and ordered another, sipping at it while taking in every patron who'd come and gone since. None had seemed quite what he was looking for, and so he'd eventually focused his attention on the busy world below his perch, nauseous as it made him.

With nothing to keep his interest, the steady stream of people had eventually all become a hazy blur, and before long he'd dozed off. Every now and again a slightly raised voice or a fit of laughter tore him awake long enough to spy on a few more people passing by — then sleep came to reclaim him.

What awoke him [i]now [/i]was not the sound of drunken merrymaking; it was a commotion somewhere far below. Distant and faint at first, the frantic shouting grew louder every second, until Capriccio practically [i]had [/i]to lean over the railing and look.

What his eyes focused on first wasn't the source of the shouting, however. No, he hadn't even [i]begun [/i]to look for that, when a particularly tacky hat flopped into his peripheral vision. Capriccio squinted, a weird, familiar sense rattling him fully awake. He... he [i]knew [/i]that hat — or one very like it, at the very least, and [i]surely [/i]there couldn't be multiple people walking around in such a— aaand the hat was rushing off towards the commotion with no regard for her own safety. Yep.

It was [i]her[/i]. Thankfully, the hunting party didn't [i]seem [/i]to pose a threat, exactly, so all the diminutive wizard had to do was not slip when climbing down and she'd be alright.

... But what [i]was [/i]Pepper doing here? It'd been a while since he'd last seen her; the best way to find out would be to simply ask. She was nothing if not upfront, after all, sometimes — oftentimes — even to her own detriment.

Capriccio stood, just about to make his way down towards her, when he spotted one member of the hunting party making his way up and towards the bar in turn. Oh. Oh, so [i]now [/i]someone worth his while decides to wet his whistle, and not a single moment before. With a defeated sigh, Capriccio glanced down to make sure Pepper hadn't yet slipped and broken a bone, hoped she would continue her lucky streak of not doing so, and pushed himself towards the bar instead. He swiped his own, almost empty tankard off the table and searched for a seat within earshot of the old simiah man. 

Judging by the old man's vexation and the silence of the rest of the patrons, Capriccio suspected the newest patron would be [i]quite [/i]eager to share what he'd just been through all on his own, without being prompted. So for now, all he had to do was stomach a few more gulps of his ale, and listen.[/color]