Lowering his hand towards the streak of fur gently resting next to Milo's chair, the young shoulder ran his fingers through the strands as his eyes fell to the husky curiously keeping its gaze traced across the bar. "There's a meeting?" Milo proceeded, shifting his eyes back to the tender. He had seen quite a few individuals moving towards one collective location since entering the bar.
"Yeah, concerning the crash." A response came, "buncha' leaders going there." The man shrugged, "also people who want to help, from what I could gather."
"Help?" Milo inquired, placing his hands on the counter as his interest was somewhat more piqued.
"Mhm," the tender nodded, "I'm sure you'd get compensated in some way." Any job was worth it, if the payout was sufficient. Milo would have been lying to himself if he claimed that this crash didn't interest him, and whatever came to unfold from the incident was sure to warrant some level of worry. The Riftlands was his home, after all. What happened there, involved him, and concerned him as much as anyone else.
"Might as well take a look," the young soldier left his chair, swinging his rifle over his shoulder as fingers made their way around the leather strap. "Come on, Bubbles." He finished, seeing how the husky scrambled to its paws and followed its owner out of the bar. With a soft wave, Milo vacated the establishment in a straight path for the meeting. It wasn't too difficult to find, seeing as how it was the only place where any notable amount of activity was taking place.