#calain 01.

People talked in Eterna, people talked all the time, it's arguably their favorite pastime, gossip. The darkspawn had been in the North, they'd been in the South, the Kossith had come and gone, and he felt like everything was unraveling. Unraveling too quickly and he needs a spot up high he can observe the chaos without dabbling too deep. Needless to say, his usually unbothered demeanor is shaken for once. That's apparent because of where he is, he always finds himself wandering into a lounge, not a bar that's usually crawling with members of the Thieves Guild. But he'd had a bit to drink, even for a bard, and he was fully sulking in a corner booth, staring into a tankard of mead as he plans his next move. It's hard to do when he realizes the familiar itch in the back of his throat isn't going to be cured by liquor. This would be a good time to go home, but instead he's scanning the bar, sizing people up. And the curls and the doe eyes that rivaled his own stuck out like a sore thumb. He should go home but instead he's batting his lashes and the moment their eyes meet, he's smiling just enough to reveal a glint of fang. Why go any further for a snack when he could just eat here and then go home?