Zoroka's fingers slid across the underside of her belt and the appropriate amount of coins plopped into her hand. She slid that across the counter before pouring herself a glass of the amber liquid. She turned with it in her seat to survey the tavern more closely. A yuletide tree with ornaments was met with a slight lip curl of disdain. She suspected it probably stemmed from bitterness at never having such luxuries when she was a child, but then shoved it down hard. It wasn't in her life then; she saw no reason for it now.
Her dark eyes roved over the woman yelling about room twelve.
"Is that a common problem here? All keys fit into all doors?" Her voice was husky, sultry, with an edge of danger thrown in--almost like the caressing one with a blade.
If that was the case, Zoroka wasn't sure if this was the inn for her. She needed something with better security. Not that she didn't have her own means to protect herself. The last time someone broke into her room, there were parts of the man strewn in four different directions. That was not how she wanted to wake up in the middle of the night.
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