[Pippin Pondlily]

Haven, who had been listening intently to the discourse between the five people crowding the bar, let out a low, long whistle. She was very familiar with Henry Lightheart and his brother Harold. She had trained Henry's family's horses for the past five years, and Harold's now for the past seven or so months. She had been very fond of Henry and his wife, never having actually met Sandrina, and was very sore to hear what had happened to their daughter. And when the Lighthearts packed up and moved, leaving their estate to Harold and his two bitter sons, Haven was gravely disappointed. Dealing with Harold Lightheart was like sticking ones teeth into a cold, bitter lemon. Even so, she was quite appalled to learn that Arthur and Samuel may have had something to do with the young woman's condition.

Haven finished off her wine in one gulp and approached the bar. She slid her mug across the counter and acknowledged the bartender, who had one ear turned towards the little reunion's conversation. Something caught in Haven's mind. If she could hear their conversation others certainly could as well, others who knew the Harold Lightheart. She decided to intervene and lightly touched the arm of one of the rangers closest to her. The group fell suddenly silent and looked at her.

"Sorry to intrude," she said, looking about the room, "but this may not be the best place to carry on your little…meeting. May I propose a smaller room to be of a more private, therefore, safer nature?" The rangers by instinct stiffened and lowered their hands to their sheaths, casting a glance towards the patrons who suddenly were quite suspicious, and almost sinister in appearance. The other young woman placed a hand on Sandrina's elbow and led her off of her stool. Haven smiled formally and motioned to a door on the back wall. "A private dining room," she explained. The original five walked ahead of her and she laid a silver penny on the counter and pointed towards the room. The bartender nodded and pocketed the coin.

Raen remained standing near the door after Haven entered. She caught his meaning and took a seat at the table, allowing him to lock and secure the room.

"No, offense…" the woman who was not Sandrina began but Haven interrupted.

"Of course. I'm Haven Storms," she looked quickly at all the faces, wondering if any of them would recognize her. "I work for Rillis Wheed, the horse trainer." To her surprise and relief they all seemed to have some sort of recognition of her name, or at least of her employer's. "I've traded with your father, Sandrina, and your uncle recently--but two weeks ago. I overheard your conversation and it occurred to me that perhaps I was not the only nosy eavesdropper in the room. I don't mean to be rude I only thought it might be safer for you all talk elsewhere. I understand that in the surprise of finding Miss Lightheart alive the thought of immediate security may have eluded some of you who otherwise would be right on top of such matters…" They were relatively silent, hanging on her words, and most likely suspicious of her exact intentions. She lifted her brows, looking openly at the others around her, "Have I acted inappropriately?"