
Taverns were fascinating places, filled with all sorts of things taking place all centered around good food and drink. It wasn’t uncommon for a certain six foot four, dark haired and grey eyed man to come in around this time. Usually he managed to find interesting company that was more than happy to buy him a drink and even a bowl of the day’s stew. Savitaire was tall for the usually average of five foot eleven, but it wasn’t uncommon for someone to be nearish to his height. He was a lithe and stocky one hundred and ninety five pounds. It wasn’t these things that would really draw eyes however, it was the way he moved and the confidence he held himself with. He had a fluid grace to his movements, an aura of Other that was predatory even if it wasn’t hostile or threatening. His gaze when focused on someone or something had his full, undivided, attention in such a way that made it clear he paid close attention. His attire was dark brown leather pants, knee high doe skin boots, a long sleeved linen tunic and a leather vest. The form fitting clothing suited his form quite well and other than the leather drawstring bag slung over his shoulder he seemed to appear at home within the place.
A few people looked him over drawing his own gaze, but the subtle shift in posture spoke that they decided they didn’t want to start a fight. There was always those that looked at someone clearly an outsider and tried to start something. In Savitaire’s case the ease with which he held himself spoke for its self, he knew how to fight and knew how to defend himself. There was only one table that didn’t have several people sitting at it, grey eyes lit upon the woman and took their time studying her. The very first thing he noticed was her hair, the vibrant red stood out against the common browns, spattering of black and occasional blondes like a poppy in full bloom in a sea of green. He had never seen someone with red hair, the color alone would have attracted him, but the owner of such color herself was quite pretty. It was her expression, paired with the mug, that suggested to him something was amiss. She seemed to be upset, her gaze studying those around her with attention, but the occasional movement of her lips speaking of near silent company-less conversation.
He walked over and motioned to a chair across from her “May I join you miss? Your table is the only one not filled with overly drunk company and you seem, if I may be a tad forward, rather upset. The man who left you here alone knows not what he left behind and…I would gladly share your company in his place, if you’ll have me?”
He had been working hard all summer to make his pronunciations of his ‘s’s seem normal and while his accent was common in the region he was from, so far he felt sure that the stress on the s sounds was gone. That was really his only telltale to his race, that and the fact horses often couldn’t stand his company when they caught whiff of him. He was a predator, they knew it as only a prey beast could and while the humanoid owners cared not to listen when they gave warning, he knew they knew. This red headed woman would probably only see a charming, handsome man requesting her company and that suited the Dhani just fine. Company was always better than being alone and he wanted to make sure she left with a smile and in good spirits, especially if that meant he could snag free food and drink!