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Niara
Perhaps due in part to the ale, though such things had never had much effect on her, Niara began finally to relax. Two of the Watchers at the bar had departed, in haste that should have caused wonder; but by the look of she who left first, it was a personal matter. The last glanced her direction, but seemed disinterested--or perhaps troubled. She decided not to bother about it, she was safe here.
She leaned forward, her delicate, weatherworn fingers tracing the knotted patterns of the wooden table. The light shining through her glass of ale projected intricate, translucent patterns that played on its surface. She began an invisible outline of an eye... his eye. Warm and brown and deep... She concentrated, her dark ringlets falling and creating a thin curtain on either side of her face. Shielding her from as much of her lonliness as she could concievably imagine.
Suddenly she realized someone was speaking to her. And it wasn't the server. She looked up, the strangers eyes were questioning, nervously. Niara hadn't been listening, what had she said? She searched her memory...Chiding herself-- if this maid had been an enemy, she would be dead. Ah, there it was...
Now to answer.
"Please, stay." she said. "I am Niara." She wished she could smile.
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