Nadia shrugged and kept her eyes forward, "I don't need friends. All they do is ask you for stuff that you don't want to give." Except for Rowen... The thought gave her pause. It was true, Rowen never asked anything from her. Sometimes she wished he would. Nadia knew she would gladly give him anything... anything at all that he asked from her. Just him, and him alone. It wasn't a job with Rowen, it was something else... But as always she kept these thoughts locked away somewhere deep deep down. It was best that way. Rowen could never forgive her if he knew.
The trip was uneventful, if a bit chilly with the wind beginning to pick up. When Nadia walked her arms were always close to her, keeping her belongings as centered as possible. She also walked to the side, close to walls and her eyes always checked over her shoulder. Her glance came on Amael more than once, and there she saw that puzzling look, which made Nadia more uncomfortable than any lustful gaze. Pulling her coat tighter about her she took a left off of the bridge, coming around a corner and leading Amael to the Entrance and holding the door open for her.
The Pig's Foot Tavern was filled as always with rowdy, loud and obnoxious voices of men and women alike. Drunkards sang along with the mistrals songs, women showcased their wares both objects and their bodies, and everyone talked and laughed and drank away their worries for another day. Nadia lead Amael to a table a bit off to the right from the door, not exactly secluded but where the other patrons around were more interested in their own conversations than two women coming in to take shelter from the cold. Sitting down Nadia smiled and waved at a waitress as she passed, "Can I have an Ale, and whatever my friend is having please."
Once the orders were taken Nadia would remove her coat, folding it carefully, almost reverently as she lay it across her legs and not the chair back. The bulky coat removed her own curves were revealed. They were there, but her body was thin and fit like one who did a lot of rigorous exercise, and who did not eat as often as she should. There was some bruising on her arms, just past her elbows that were suspiciously shaped like a hand print, and on her wrists were the permanent scars left from bells upon bells struggling to break from bonds of rope or hemp.
Crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap, on top of the coat, Nadia finally looked at Amael once more, "So what brings you to Sunberth? Surely not the sights. There are a lot prettier cities I am sure, and safer ones as well."
The trip was uneventful, if a bit chilly with the wind beginning to pick up. When Nadia walked her arms were always close to her, keeping her belongings as centered as possible. She also walked to the side, close to walls and her eyes always checked over her shoulder. Her glance came on Amael more than once, and there she saw that puzzling look, which made Nadia more uncomfortable than any lustful gaze. Pulling her coat tighter about her she took a left off of the bridge, coming around a corner and leading Amael to the Entrance and holding the door open for her.
The Pig's Foot Tavern was filled as always with rowdy, loud and obnoxious voices of men and women alike. Drunkards sang along with the mistrals songs, women showcased their wares both objects and their bodies, and everyone talked and laughed and drank away their worries for another day. Nadia lead Amael to a table a bit off to the right from the door, not exactly secluded but where the other patrons around were more interested in their own conversations than two women coming in to take shelter from the cold. Sitting down Nadia smiled and waved at a waitress as she passed, "Can I have an Ale, and whatever my friend is having please."
Once the orders were taken Nadia would remove her coat, folding it carefully, almost reverently as she lay it across her legs and not the chair back. The bulky coat removed her own curves were revealed. They were there, but her body was thin and fit like one who did a lot of rigorous exercise, and who did not eat as often as she should. There was some bruising on her arms, just past her elbows that were suspiciously shaped like a hand print, and on her wrists were the permanent scars left from bells upon bells struggling to break from bonds of rope or hemp.
Crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap, on top of the coat, Nadia finally looked at Amael once more, "So what brings you to Sunberth? Surely not the sights. There are a lot prettier cities I am sure, and safer ones as well."