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Sunni stalks in silently, and looks around the live and bustling place. She is somewhat overwhelmed by it all, and hastily looks for an empty table to seat herself at. At last her eyes fell upon one, and she walked over gracefully and pulled off her worn green travelling cloak, placing it on the back of the chair and immediately sitting down. She brushed her red hair from her face and chanced another glance around.
This was a very merry place, she decided. The building just had that feel to it, empty or crowded, to herself, anyway. She looked down at the table and looked at the worn marks upon it. What a history this place must have.
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Stuff should go here. It might eventually.
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