[Past] You, Me and a Pitcher of Cream

Her smile faded a little at the mention of the mage, Yeeeah, I dunno if you’d find me the day after if it was him. Bertie had already warned her to keep a distance, which begged the question, How’d you survive?

Then her brow furrowed in concern, the pint abandoned to turn and offer her hands, I can take another look… or, maybe later, realising that openly using magic was a very bad idea. Smart, Meg. So smart. His face changed colour though and her grin widened some more.

Now? surprised, but well, why not? Nodding her head, she’d chuckle, ]Sure, um, and with a brief glance about, she downed the good third that was the rest of her watered pint. As he pointed out Ruth’s obvious smirking, she’d snort into the empty glass, like Fen’harel, he’s trouble, rubbing her nose with the cuff of her shirt.

Leaving the glass, Meg slipped out of the stool to gather her satchel laid at her feet. Where we gonna start? reaching into the bag, she pulled out a similar looking scarf, this one longer though, fingers wrapping it carefully as she spoke. Oh! You should make me guess. Yes. That’s a much better idea.