Waiting on a Friend

[UlricusBurgstahler]

Ulricus sat in the back of the inn, a common place to find the young Landsknecht. "I hope she can find this place." He'd murmur to himself, looking around the near empty room, no one but a barkeep milling around behind the bar.

[Rowan Llyri-laer]

The door of the quiet, little inn would burst open all of a sudden, a nymph on the other side. Icicles hung from her antlers, and the door was so narrow she had to side step so that the protrusions from her skull didn't catch in the doorway.

It only took a quickly glance around the room to find the boy at the far corner. She wore a simply ivory dress and a sheer head scarf (with fitted antler wholes, of course) as usual, she wore nothing on her feet, as usual.
Unlike usual, however, she did not wear the friendly smile that usually was accompanied by whimsical twirling. The girl wasn't exactly angry, but her large eyes were narrowed warily as she walked over to the boy and took a seat. "Calls had to walk forever and ever to get here." She simply said.

[UlricusBurgstahler]

Ulricus would nod, looking around the run down in. It would see ruffian taverns and falling apart dives were his locale of choice. "I suppose I owe you an explanation." He'd say simply, kicking out a chair for her to sit on. "Just be lucky you made it here." He'd say with a shrug, rubbing a fresh hole on the torn cloak laying on the table. "I nearly didn't."

[Rowan Llyri-laer]

Calla tilted her head to the side so that the snow piled up on her antlers would fall to the wood floor. She glanced over to the bartender and the jars of arctic preservatives that filled the shelves behind him. Outside the door the nymph had seen a couple of supposed hunters with the pelts of fox and hare draped over their shoulders as they chatted beside their dogsleds.

Inside the tiny tavern, near the bartender was a staircase that probably led up to a few rooms for the stray traveler, hunter, or fisher. Calla wondered how the boy that was Ulricus, whom was neither hunter nor fisher, even found the inn.

"Calla is a nymph." She murmured flatly, "Nymphs do not get cold like humans..." She folded her arms on the table before her and tilted her head down toward them, the slightest hint of snark in the girl's tone, "Of course, Calla does not know much about humans. She is just a stupid nymph, after all."