@lordcommandress
Rea likes many things—dogs and cats, stories, tinkering with magecrafts, rich foods...
But not the tavern, not really. It’s fine, it’s good, from the ambience to the food, but... it’s a social place, where friends gather. Where friends converse and friends have fun and friends have... friends.
But the food is good, if Rea cooked her own meals she’d never eat, and she’s long mastered the art of picking the unoccupied corners and burying her nose in her work and ignoring those around her like they’ve always done the same and—
Rea starts when she realizes she’s been spoken to, feels her face start to burn with embarrassment, and lifts her head out of her assorted scribbles to look just past the woman’s own ear (better to feign eye contact when she doesn’t feel up to it, after all).
“—Sorry?”










