PM to join Wizard Knitting Circle [University] to [Quills Rest]

[Reaver Riatal]

The smile remained on Reaver's face as he raised his brow towards to Kenn. He was starting to find a good comrodery with him, a fellow wizard! His heart raced with excitement at the thought of finally having someone intelligent to talk to! His mind distracted for a moment his sharp blue eyes locked onto Kenn again examining him as he spoke. He had learned from a real scholar, someone of study and worthy of respect. Honestly this only improved his opinion of the older gentleman beside him. And the word turned out to be a rather accurate description as Kenn opened and held open the door to Quill's Rest. With a great full smile he walked in admiring the wooden interior. Looking around at the few other scholarly types that dotted the place he smiled as he noticed a table that would do. Though his admiration was broken once he heard Kenn complemented his heritage of mages. Though he was unsure beyond his grandfather, even that was uncertain, that others in his family line where wizards. It was a nice thought and a kind complement.

The shield had held up well against the cold outside, but moments before they had stepped in. The thin shield had fallen apart, though its purpose had been served he wished he could create better shields. Larger ones too, that would be positively delightful! Looking around he spotted the seats again. Mentioning to Kenn he pointed eagerly. "Oh, there! That is a prime spot! Lighting is nice, its near the corner, a few too many seats. But it will do perfectly for our little artwork project~" He smiled, he still had parchment, a jar of ink, and a quill in his pocket from before. He'd run out soon, but it wasn't too expensive and easily replaced. Looking to Kenn with a smile he mentioned for them to head on over. His dark locks bouncing with each step and his red coat a beacon against the brown surroundings

[Miles]

Seated in the warmth of the Rest, Miles took interest to the men entering. The Quill hosted a higher class of patron, no ruffians or thugs here, no no. This was a higher plane of establishment: a place he did not frequent, and for good reason.

He didn't belong.

To the right eyes, it was plain to see. He did not dress as they did, did not speak as eloquently (though he made a rather convincing run at it) and did not know the mannerisms. All in all, he belonged in an alley off of East street- behind a fish market. Something had driven him from there to here. Maturity maybe. Or ambition.

Either way the man sat a few feet away from where they relaxed, and took a rather obvious interest in the pair. The young theif hadn't picked a pocket at all in this establishment- here he was to learn information- here he would begin an understanding of the University, and how better to get to know a place than in its gutter. From here, there was nowhere to go but up.