Another day, another successful hunt. Or rather, another hour and another successful hunt with the promise of spicy pheasant's feet for her cut of the prey. On a whim, she decided to take her meal of chicken's feet with venison to the local tavern; she doubted they'd mind if she came there just to eat. And if she had to order something, she could always order water or jagga, if the barkeep had some in stock.
She made her way into the tavern and nodded her head in absent greeting to the Bosmer male and Nord boy, though she did a double take at the Bosmer with narrowed eyes: his skin looked funny. She disregarded it, however, and merely made her way to an empty table, set her lunch down, prayed, and began to eat quietly.