"I-," Fenin was cut off as a breton woman appeared at their table. "You..mind if I take a seat?" Her voice was seductive, but her
face... Evvereen resisted the urge to puke. Her upper lip was so hairy she nearly had a moustache, and her nose was too big for her face. Her eyes were beady and a bug-like green, and her hair was in knotted, greasy dreadlocks. Evvereen resisted the urge to lean away slightly as she sat down, but then six spindly legs came around from her back. "I'm Jentina," she said, revealing yellowing, pointed fangs. "It's so nice to meet you."
Evvereen blinked; left behind was just a woman. A woman who pushed her briasts up and slathered her face in juices and paints. Evvereen would have felt sorry for her, were it not for the smirk she wore on her face.
This woman doesn't even know what she has. She gazed at her expressionlessly- having once been an argonian, Evvy was master at hiding her true thoughts and emotions. Her eyes hid her feelings, but she had an instant disliking of this woman.
...give her a chance... she told herself.
You don't know what she's like yet.So she held her tongue and didn't tell the woman to bug off. Fenin introduced himself, and Evvereen was about to do the same when the inn erupted. A fight broke out, and people started running everywhere. In the panic, Evvereen was quickly on her feet, knocking over her chair in the process as she drew her sword. The air shimmered around her slightly as she moved, but then stilled.
Crysword gleamed in the candlelight, little more than a spectre, but she felt more comfortable with it in hand.
The instigator flung a fireball into the air. "I want you to leave the inn. All of you. Except a select few who know I'm talking about them," he demanded authoratively.
Evvereen raised her eyebrows- how
wonderful it was to be able to do that- and muttered to Fenin, "Any idea what he's talking about?" Her tail swished, and thumped the wall behind her, she automatically stepped forwards, hoping that in all this mess, nobody would have noticed.
She knew that, sensibly, she should leave. She didn't know he was talking about her- she knew nothing about this guy. But she resented the idea of being kicked out, and somehow... well, she liked the idea of fighting over it nearly as much as finding out what was happening.
Dementia can be hard to live with... But a wry smile was spreading across her lips, and a gleam was in her dark brown eyes.