"Nope, only one Jeannie I know of here!" the satyress claimed, setting down the ale before the pirate, who gave a playful pout before taking a large drink. It went down badly, as ale often did to her, yet somehow she always returned to the drink. Mostly because it was what her father and mother had drank, and had been what she knew best. The other lady's smile was pretty, and contagious enough that soon the Umbraeon was grinning as well, though attempted to hide it behind her drink. It was one of those, however, that spread throughout one's face, crinkling the eyes and shadowing the forehead with light. Her cerulean eyes popped with light-colored swirls, vast darkness vanished into a corner one had to search for. In the brilliance of their budding conversation, however, Lenna wouldn't even think someone would want to.
As Jeannie continued, her grin widened at first, a laugh visible on her face. It seemed that only a few more sentences would make it burst from her chest, a fluttery bird-like chime, yet somehow the pirate contained her chuckles. When asked about her race, the girl shrugged and stalled by taking another dour drink of ale. "Umbraeon, we're called," she answered, only the faintest hint of an edge to the word, as if at some point she had spat it rather than explained the word. "Cousins, I guess. I'm not really sure, a lotta people mistake us fer Drow, but we really, generally live up onna Thunderbacks than underground. My family tribe was on an island, pretty removed and disregarded. Most other Umbraeons wouldda kill're ignored me as one'na their own," she elaborated, toying with an earring. It didn't sound as if Lenna was bitter at the way the others were, simply stating a fact with a nonchalant brow raise.
"These tattoos, they're generally how people tell who we're," she explained, running a finger down her neck, though the elaborate weaves found every crevasse of skin upon her body. Down to the fingernails and beneath her clothing, only just darker than her pigment to make them seem funny reflections of shadows. Yet, apparently, they had intentionally been created that way, only another thing to draw less attention to the pirate. She grinned and shook her head, sending a short wave of hair to fall about her face in its own wild style, that was a bit more appalling than it was exotic. "Sorry. That might've been more than ya' wanted to hear." Just then, a very strange thing happened that the pirate had not at all been expected.
An incredulous look fell about the Umbraeon, her face contorted in a mixture of surprise and confusion as a gray wolf pulled itself up to the counter. It was peculiar, an animal having the sense of... to think that... She was past coherent thought, each one ending as abruptly as it began in search of something that was remotely possible. An animal mentally controlled by some sorcerer? They were in Serendipity, so it wasn't completely impossible. Yet, still. Lenna forgot her ale, and only vaguely had the sense to turn to face Jeannie. Maybe the satyress knew what this was, had seen it before, as bizarre and unreal a sight as it was. She could handle elementalists, and could see men laying gutted, but an animal sitting at a bar was far beyond any of that. For a moment, she questioned the drink, if it had any tonic in it. Or maybe she had been bespelled to see things. Maybe she fell asleep.
Searching the bar maid for answers only lasted a short while, as next thing a voice came from where the wolf sat beside her. Lenna's body moved before her mind could, jerking around and standing up in the same movement. Thankfully she had fully turned, lest whip-lash would have sent her crawling back for Calira. Certainly, there was still a wolf sitting there. But it had spoke -she had heard it, and there was no one behind or next to the animal. Magic, indeed. It couldn't be anything but. The elf hadn't ever encountered a speaking animal this far, not one that was not magicked. For a few moments, the woman composed herself, tentatively sitting upon the edge of her seat once more. "Not... not to sound... rude or anythin'," Lenna began, having to cough part-way through the sentence to clear its shakiness or uncertainty of having to walk towards a quadrupedal creature, "but uh... What?"
Originally, Lenna had intended to ask, 'what are you,' but it sounded all sorts of demanding, uncreative and crude. So she had settled upon a less eloquent version that surmised all her feelings. The woman was still surprised she'd been so shocked as to instinctively stand up, a posture that often made readiness for fighting or fleeing. She wanted to return her gaze to much more pleasant and less confusing Jeannie, but didn't have a desire to seem conspiring and even more rude than she already had been. It was embarrassing, actually, enough to make the girl want a redemption against her own actions. Oh, this was a very unexpected turn of events she couldn't have even imagined of.
