[Elora]

Ronnan had let the uncomfortable silence continue for far too long between him and Naiore. The Elven woman had sipped elegantly at her wine whilst he had contemplated all the unsavoury possibilities she may be able to muster. Naiore was not a woman to be lightly triffled with, if all accounts could be believed. Ronnan, as he observed her, was inclined to believe.

The arrival of a somewhat unusual guest managed to snag the thief's attention. With the observational ability so necessary for a sucessful career in theft, Ronnan quickly ascertained that the newcomer was not at all a commonly found sort of person. Struggling to keep the smallest shred of composure, Ronnan set his long untasted ale down on the table and looked at Naiore.

He ignored his startlement at finding a set of wide emerald eyes studying him.

"We have an interesting addition to our number," Ronnan said as smoothly as possible. Naiore looked sceptical for an instant, and then followed his line of sight to study Twig as he spoke with another. She watched for a long moment, and Ronnan allowed some hope to surge.

"Well we may, Ronnan," was all she said after a long moment, turning back to face Ronnan.

"Why do you suppose he's here," Ronnan asked.
"Why do you suppose it's of any concern to mem," Naiore asked in her own turn. Her serentity and assurances seemed unruffled, and for a moment Ronnan wondered if that hope he had felt was utterly unfounded.

"Perhaps it is common from whence you hail to see such things freely abroad and mingling at inns and taverns," he commented. Ronnan forced himself to pick up his ale again, and sip at it in a display of ease. Naiore could sense with little trouble what an absurd facade that display was. Yet, the thief did have a point. Perhaps his unease that coloured her empathic senses was not entirely related to the prospect of meeting his comeuppance.

She twirled the stem of her wine glass between two long fingers as she thought.

"Perhaps it would behoove us both to know more," she allowed. She had little liking for discovery, particularly in Rohan where her list of known crimes was most comprehensive. Strange occurances such as the coincidental appearance of what seemed to her to be an ent-like creature are not to be overlooked if continued freedom was sought. Such casualness was not wise.

Ronnan's face held traces of anxious uncertainty. His sapphire eyes continued to study the newcomer. The thief knew the risk that coincidences could pose. There was no such thing as a coincidence. Naiore set her glass down and leant towards the Feanorian Elf.

"It would go well for you if you aided me in this. Were you to move closer so as to better hear, I would not overlook such a service," she purred. Ronnan examined her closely.

"Let it not be said that I refused a fair lady service," he replied in a faint echo of his habitual charm. Naiore smiled indulgently and Ronnan pushed his chair away from their table and stood. Careful not to draw overmuch attention to herself, she was sure to not watch Ronnan approach the individual in question.

Ronnan was equally careful in his approach, employing the stealth by which he had made his fortune, up until now that is. There was an art to blending in and in doing so becoming invisible and he used all his skill now. He walked through the clusters of people and tables, until he neared Twig. There he paused, for he knew Naiore would not ignore him entirely, just mostly. He loitered until she had checked his location.

Poised between Twig, the individual he was speaking with, and the bar, Ronnan was able to observe Naiore's quick location check and then move with as much haste as he dared for the door. If he looked more than once over his shoulder, noone could blame him.

Once outside of the bar, Ronnan found himself no longer constrained from a conspicuous display of speed and put as much distance as he could between himself and the Elven woman who would soon discover his absence within.