Downing her drink, the woman cast her eye over the assembled patrons and smothered a wince. Oh, the place was busy enough, no worries there, but currently all the punters seemed to be concerned with was finding a warm body to pass the night away with. That, and starting fights, yelling at each other, quaffing booze, and ogling the staff. You know, usual pub things. Things Akori was well used to in her chosen career, but things that made it hard to read the mood of a room - not to mention she had arrived only this night in this city, and was totally unaware of any political leanings, rumours, or general temperament of the populace. She could find herself thrown out on her butt - or worse - if she picked the wrong song to debut her arrival in Mamlak. While she wasn't opposed to the odd 'being chased by an angry mob' method of passing a night, that was not at all what she had in mind for this night. She was achy, tired, and had spent far too long travelling to get here. She wanted a bed, food, and some coins weighing down her purse. If anyone cared to join her, well, she'd not say no to that, either. The kitsune had been forced to utilise her magic to see off bandits on the road, and she was feeling the lack of mana rather keenly. On the bar, her small songbird, Kikka, sat in a grumpy fuzz of feathers, glaring with beady eyes at the ruckus around her.
"Cheer up, grumpbeak," Akori murmured, running a finger over the bird's head. Kikka only glared harder.
Twisting on her stool, Akori tried not to grimace too much as she looked closer. Rough men, and not judging by dress or looks, but by manner. Well, she wouldn't know how it would go over until she started playing. If all else failed, she could run fast, and a hedge was as good as a bed right now, anyway. Picking up her lute - because she didn't think a harp would really suit this place, or a flute for that matter - the bard climbed onto the platform reserved for performers. It was as she was leaving the bar that a youngish looking man entered, and ordered a drink. From the way that he tossed the whiskey back, he was out to enjoy himself, though the face he pulled made her giggle, even as she set about tuning the lute, lest he take offence. He didn't seem like the other patrons - most of them were downing ale, beer, and cider - not to mention the hair and his eyes. Interesting. Maybe she would have to keep an eye on him.
As she started to play, a stirring marching song about soldiers from somewhere or other, going to fight someplace else, it became apparent that she wasn't the only one who had noticed the red-head enter. Kikka, still on the bar, turned a beady, dark eye on the man. While the songbird was glaring, the pack left behind by the bard gave a slight shake, and then another. One may wonder why she had left all her worldly goods unattended in a rowdy pub, but watching a little longer would reveal why. Slowly, a purple, scaled snout pushed aside the flap closing the pack, and revealed itself to be a somewhat rotund wyvern in miniature. Nostrils flared, picking up a myriad of interesting scents, and he cocked his head to one side, contemplating. With a huff, the pseudo-wyvern pulled himself from the bag, scrambled up the stool, and onto the bar. Kikka trilled in surprise, but the pseudo-wyvern was not to be deterred - he had smelled something tasty, and he wanted it! In a clacking of claws on wood, he happily plowed through all obstacles until he was before the red-headed man - and his drink. Jaws gaped, he hissed, well pleased with himself, and went to stick his snout into the glass. A flurry of blue and scolding cheeps put paid to that plan, colliding with the purple beast's head. Amidst a cacophony of squeaks, hisses, and scolding, Kikka ended up in the pseudo-wyvern's mouth.
As luck would have it - or maybe she was just attuned to mayhem, being she she often heralded it - Akori had paused between verses, and trailed off as it became obvious her 'pets' were having a scuffle. Plopping the lute on the platform, she dashed back to the bar, and caught the wyvern's jaws just before they closed. Alright, so she ended up leaning over the red-head, invading some personal space, but hey, they were all friends here, right? Also, her bird was about to become a snack, and that kinda mattered more to her at the moment than being demure or polite.
"Hi, nice to meet you, I'm Akori. Do me a favour? Could you get my bird out of Terry's mouth? They're friends, really, he just sometimes forgets you don't eat friends."
As far as introductions went, well, it could have been better - could have been worse, too. Terry could have drank the guy's whiskey and tried to eat Kikka.