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She strolls n (as a tiny, cute brown and white rat) and sat as close to the fire as she dared.

She turns into her human form.

Enters, smelling strongly of seawater, remains a hooded figure.

There were many things the elf could be doing besides walking into the tavern. She could be finding a way home, asking merchants for directions, figuring out how she landed by this tavern of all places. Instead she did none of those things. The curious elf did what she would have done as a child she explored. A fog had risen around her while she was on patrol and the next thing she knew she was outside the oddly homely looking tavern. Now magic being used in the Faewin was not unheard of, it was a magical forest after all. Being teleported to another place, as far as she was aware, was very unheard of. The amount of trouble she could be getting in was momentous, but that didn't matter to the elf.

What did matter was that she could see new people. New people, new places, and brand new views. She was still in her guard outfit, light greens and browns that helped her blend into the background, completely negated by what was atop of her head. She had what could only be described as rainbow dreadlock, bells, trinkets, buttons and feathers stick out from the various strands of hair. Which themselves were actually comprised of various fibers and yarns. She had a headband full of needles of various sizes, some were lockpicks, others were for knitting.

With a slight skip in her step she entered the tavern look about the place. It was absolutely fascinating, there were big chairs, small chairs, and tables of all sizes. It was warm and comfortable compared to the snow storm that had been building outside. The elf couldn't help but look around with her pink and purple gradient eyes, not realizing her strange appearance was perhaps not so strange a site to the tavern. There was an ever so slight frown of uncertainty. Unsure of what to do next, and who she should talk with, to figure out just where exactly she had ended up. She looked for the first sign of a face that was perhaps willing to talk.

As he padded through the forest, taking a walk after his packs recent meeting, the black werewolf notices something was off. It had suddenly stopped snowing, and the trees weren't the same evergreens he was so used to. He tuck his snout to the air, testing the air to find any familiar smells. Nothing, only the slight hint of smoke mingled with everything else. He knew that smoke was often a sign of civilization, and followed the smell.

The glow of his flame red eyes was stark against the dark black of his fur. And soon, those eyes caught the sight of light, the tavern. He stayed in the form of the massive wolf, standing at least ten feet at the shoulders, as he approached. HE stopped at the tree line, seeing the door was open. He was glad to see that, as he didn't feel like shifting to human form just to open the door. So he approached the door, and would squeeze through it with some trouble. Luckily he made it through, and gave a wolf like sigh. He did not want to be stuck today.

A hooded figure strode into the inn behind the elfling, their longstaff tapping against the wooden floor almost ominously. Glowing blue eyes glanced around the as-of-yet empty room, before landing on a small table with a single chair next to Alf's corner, close enough to the fire to be warm but far enough that most would easily overlook someone sitting there. They quickly crossed from the threshold to the table, setting their larger bag down on the seat to claim it.

Ashe let out a soft sigh, hoping no-one noticed the way that shadows tended to reach their way, elongating just past what should be expected. Their left hand fell to the book holstered to their side, but they whispered a soft "no, not yet" to themself and walked over to the bar instead. They did make a point of keeping their staff in hand, though. Hopefully the glowing shards of crystal that hung from strips of leather above and below where their hand sat would deter any troublemakers.
"A pint of mead, if you would, and a bowl of whatever stew has been made today." They said softly, digging a few gold pieces from the pouch at their waist. Trading the gold for a mug full to the brim, they pointed out where they'd settled on sitting and carefully walked back to their table.

Ashe noted the elf they'd followed in from earlier looking about like a lost child; biting their tongue, they quietly reminded themself what happened when they tried to help people.

The elf stepped aside as a wolf squeezed through the closing door behind her. "Oh sorry." She said in reply realizing perhaps gaping standing in the doorway was not the best idea. It wasn't long before another figure with a longstaff came in as well, confirming the feeling she was indeed in the way. Looking around she quickly stepped to the side away from the opening and closing door. It seemed this place was getting busy or got a fair amount of traffic, of all strange sorts. "I'll just step out of the way." She said her voice a little bit nervous from the new setting and place. She watched the newcomer strode confidently claiming a table, maybe she should do the same.

She watched the trader and request for food and drink for gold and she was a little relieved. She at least recognized the bartering system. Maybe she wasn't as far away from home as she thought she was. Twirling one of her colored locks jingling a stray bell in the process she stepped up to the counter. "I'll have what she's having." She point to the woman who came in behind her and slid her coins as well. As she got her mug of mead she took a sip and a strange revulsion came across her face. She didn't know what she expected but this wasn't what she thought it was going to be. To the elf's sensitive taste, it was absolutely vile. It took all herself control not to spit out the drink and she pushed it to the side as far away as possible. she wanted nothing to do with mead.

The stretching shadows weren't the only subtle eye-draw on the floors of the tavern.

From her prime seat beside the fire, Rhian Gallagher wrinkled her nose as several others came in seeking shelter from the cold. Weirdos by the look of it. She set down her glass of warm cider with a dissatisfied thump. This place had at first seemed charming in its simplicity-- a place cool, like-minded, vintage-loving folk probably came to hang out. The longer she stayed, however, the more she came to realize that this place was anything but normal. She should have left the moment they'd told her the soup wasn't organic.

Disapproving honey gold eyes narrowed at the new company before she turned her attention back to her meal-- a meager salad with some stew and bread. Her gaze flickered every so often to the small pile of various insects which were nestling themselves snuggly against her boots. Upon closer inspection, it seemed a sparse little train of the creatures trailed from the open doorway to her table. She knew it would have been worse were it not for the merciless blizzard outside, but chose to excuse their affections for now. Every so often, a fly or mosquito became emboldened with the audacity to perch on her shoulder, but with a short wave of her hand, she commanded them straight into the fire, where they became no more than bits of ash and spark.

Ashe watched the new people with as little mistrust as they could manage. Alf had been the only person they really knew enough to trust here, but the Inn was safe enough from the happenings in other worlds. At least, it seemed so. They debated unstrapping their journal to work on translating some inscriptions they'd found, but... it didn't feel like the right time.

They did elect to keep their hood up. These strangers didn't seem completely unfriendly, but then they didn't strike Ashe as completely friendly sorts either. The elf-woman with the rainbow hair was easily picked out from the crowd, and Ashe knew they'd be just as easily seen without their hood.
They yawned, accepting the bowl of stew and loaf of bread the tavern girl brought with a smile and a few coins.

((Ok, just wanting to ask first."=Poke speech '= What the Poke speech means Italics=thoughts.)) Litten woke on the ground, not in the hole in the tree he had found. "Litten?" 'How did I get here?' he wondered. Then Litten got up and started to walk around.

Gabriel looked around the room he found himself in. With a snort, he would shake his large furry head and pad one to the fire to warm up. Bits of snow could easily be seen against the black fur, which was odd, as it wasn't snowing outside. As the warmth from the flames warmed him, he chose to finally shift, as his large form seemed to take up a lot more room then he would liked. In seconds, where there was once a great black wolf stood a young man with black hair, and the same flame red eyes. He wore clothes made from the skins of animals, though in more modern styles. His hair was still shaggy and messy, which was normal for him.

Litten found a random building. "Litten," 'Oh, seems like someone, or thing is inside," he said, half delighted, half nervous, "Lit." 'Might want to check a window to see what is in there." So Litten jumped up to a windowsill. When he looked inside, he saw all the different creatures inside. "Lit..." 'Wow..."

The elf collected her bowl of soup and it looked just as appetizing as the pint of mead. Why did she spend money on such poor tasting items? She was starving, if she had much of a choice and there were much game around she tried to hunt. But she didn't have her bow or any weapons with her. She had gotten lazy before the teleport and ceased bringing them with her on patrol. After all nothing happened so what did she have to worry about? Tam would have her hide if he'd known she was slacking on the job again. She fiddled with a silver raven bell. It was supposed to be for protection she couldn't help but think it was otherwise. It had been a gift though so she kept it, like most the other baubles in her hair. If she was anything she was probably one of the few elf hoarders.

Attempting to sip her stew her nose wrinkled, her slightly green skin seemed to turn a shade greener at the smell of the stuff. There had to be something better, maybe company would make the food go down a bit more. She glanced over the occupants to see who would be most available to talk. There was the woman who came in with the Staff, The lady by the fire swatting what few insects there were into the flames, and the wolf..no Werewolf. The elf's eyes instantly trained on the changing specimen. She had heard of the beasts but never seen the change herself. Maybe.. just maybe she could unload these unpleasant tasting items in their direction. She couldn't be the only one that wanted something warm in their belly right?

Irrayithil made her way over to the fireplace closer to both the woman and the werewolf. "Umm...Sorry to bother you." She said trying to be polite but not too intrusive. "I seem to have chosen poorly for my meal today. I don't like wasting food. Would either of you like this mead or stew? Can't say much to the taste but they're both warm," She offered.

A blizzard couldn't persuade Alf to wear shoes. That was really saying something. He came inside severely underdressed, looking like he'd been shipwrecked. He was wearing a loose necked tunic and a pair of pants that didn't make it all the way to his ankles. Poor man's clothes. Clean, but a little threadbare at the seams. There was some pink in his dark toes, but they were the only giveaway that he'd been out in the cold. In fact, the little bit of mist that blew in behind him looked curiously like steam rolling off his shoulders.

He stopped at the threshold and gave the ceiling a hawk-eye'd stare.
The tavern looked cavernous without his collar, but after the fiasco he'd started with Montte he guessed he'd have to be some kind of stupid to waltz back in without testing the waters for piranhas. No one ever recognized him without his toy, but it really helped that his face was tore up. Even halfway through healing he looked like a stray tom that had gotten into it with the neighbor's cat. Turned out a wrecked nose could go a long way toward giving a guy a secret identity!
It could also have a detrimental effect on someone's mood, but to be fair, Alf always looked like he was mad, even when he wasn't.

He was just looking for a place to weather the storm without Cori's gift getting ruined. It was a neatly bound brick under his arm and he took the time to knock some of the snow off of it at the door before he looked for a table far, far away from sentient beings.
Through forces unknown he ended up at the bar instead.

Litten stayed looking through the window for a little longer. Then he jumped down and walked up to the door. "Litten?" 'How do I open this?' he asked himself.

Rhian noticeably leaned away as her eyes followed the monstrous wolf making its way towards the fire beside her. They nearly popped right out of her skull when the mangy thing suddenly transformed into a tall man, staring off towards the fire with bright red eyes and an ensemble that screamed PETA-outrage. Stylish enough though, she supposed. Halfway through a derisive scoff, the voice of the elven girl drew her attention. The question seemed as if it were posed to both of them. She nearly resigned to ignoring her altogether, but she'd be lying if the unusual hair ornaments didn't pique her interest just a little.

"No, I'm all set," Rhian frowned, clearly somewhat offended by the proposal of eating something a stranger's mouth had been in contact with in spite of her resolve, "Dog-boy over here probably wouldn't mind any scraps, though. Huh, guy?"

The elf girl pressed her lips together a bit at the ejection but she didn't take it personally. after all she didn't want her food either but it would be a vast shame to toss it, even worse to eat it. Which she would probably do just to not waste the coin she used. She looked around sitting on the nearest chair. There were oh so slight wrinkles on the edge of her eyes, indicating maybe she was not as young as she looked or acted, or maybe she was that tired. It had been a long day after all. "Well it was a thought to offer at the very least. Didn't quite know what to order." She replied setting the mug down on the table as well as the soup." She looked over at the werewolf. "You don't have to accept the offer if you don't want too." She told him."

She glanced behind her as the doors opened once more. There was something familiar about the stranger, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it of why He felt so familiar. She twisted the same lock of her hair as before jingling the bell once more. She stared at him for a moment really hard, but it didn't click that this man was the same House Monster she met a few days ago. They just simply looked that different and well he was half the 9 almost 10 foot monster's size. She looked back at the people she was conversing with, if you could even call it that. "You don't have to be so rude to him." She said quietly to Rhian in reference to the werewolf.

Rhian shrugged, her conscious clear.

"What? And he was being polite waltzing in here and making the whole place smell like wet dog?" she replied, rolling her eyes at the man. She slid the woman's offered soup closer to the table's edge, hoping the man might simply take it and go elsewhere. In all honesty, the smell he'd brought with him had been much less pungent than she'd expected, but he'd invaded what little personal space her bug possy had afforded her and that was worth at least a fraction of her wrath.

"Anyway, you're right about the stew. Tastes like water and rocks. Probably not very fattening though." Her eyes never left the rainbow hair as she spoke, clearly picking it to pieces with her eyes as she noted all the various objects woven into the locks.

"I take exception to that, miss."
He said, looking over at the redhead afterwords. The flames of the fire only seemed to accentuate the bright color of his eyes. A trait most of his pack had in all honesty. He could tell that she didn't approve of him. Had he been back in Lycana rather then here, he would do something about it. Yet here the mighty alpha werewolf had no more power then a pup at this moment, at least politically. Other ways he was just as powerful as always.

"I would also, very kindly, ask you call me by my name, Gabriel, rather then 'dog-boy.'"
He asked/said. It was also clear he was very civilized, rather then the common barbaric werewolf most people come by. HE would then turn to the elf, who had asked a question not long before.
"Thank you, but I ate before I was teleported here."

Litten thought about how he could open the door. "Litten...." 'Maybe a Move's power could open it....,' he said out loud, "Lit." 'Well, here goes nothing." Then he got up and charged at the door. "Litten!" 'Tackle!' Litten hit the door with a soft "Thump!" "Litten." 'Gah, it didn't work.'