Though from the looks of their conversation, they may as well have been coyotes with their hackles raised, as far as Sintas was concerned. She watched as the kilted man shoved the man in blue, and the victim's lack of physical response. She sighed.
"Children. What are we fighting about?"
The kilted man whipped around to stare at Sintas.
"Children? You equate their age-old exile being breached to a child's fit?!" He growled. "Has everyone forgotten but me? Feh!" He stomped away, casting an indignant glare over his shoulder.
The man in blue looked to Sintas with relief. "Thank you, my lady... He was becoming rather violent."
Sintas nodded. "Did he simply recognize what you are?"
The man sighed. "Yes... We had hoped to come here without much incident, but... Alas, we knew we hoped for too much." He smiled. "How rude of me. My name is Farran. And yourself?"
Sintas fought the urge to bite her lip as she remembered Fandral's order: Do not introduce yourself. She smiled a bit instead, nodding.
"Ah. You may call me Sint."
Farren nodded, smiling. "Well. I'm glad a local came to my rescue, then."
Sintas smiled back. "Of course." She shifted her weight. "So, what's there to do? You haven't had an audience with the high priestess yet, have you?"
Farren sighed. "Yes. We've all been preparing for that day thus far. Statements, displays of our worth, that sort of business. A lovely lady such as yourself probably wouldn't be interested in the boring exchanges of politics, though." He grinned a bit. "So bore you I will not. Would you care to step inside for a bit of drink, though? Perhaps some conversation?"
Slimy twit, she thought. She merely shook her head, smiling shyly. "Oh, no, I have other places to be, unfortunately... Perhaps some other time."
Farren nodded, visibly disappointed. "I see. Of course. I wouldn't want to keep a fine woman from her duties."
The two elves exchanged parting words, leaving their separate ways: Farren, to the inn, and Sintas, back to Staghelm.
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