"It's Gabe. May I ask of yours, as well?"

"I am Shenandoah... but there are those that simply call me 'Shen', Lady Gabe."

"It certainly is pretty." She giggled. "You seem like a hunter, am I correct??"

((I'm sorry I vanished.))

"Something of the kind," she agreed, setting aside the mug she had drank from. A server came forward and asked if she would like more and she nodded. The mug was whisked away as she returned her attention to Lady Gabe. "But I always thank those that I have taken from. It is only proper."

She nodded. "Yes. I've made it a habit of thanking every spirit that lends me their power."

Shenandoah's lips quirked. "Even the unusual ones that are hominoid with the hindquarters of a wolf and antlers of a buck even though obviously female?" It was clear she was talking of herself as she was a spirit of the woods not too far away from where they currently sat.

Gabe giggled. "Of course. Although, some are thanked better than others."

Shenandoah was lost for a moment on that one and the confusion showed clear on her face. Her offerings were simple and far between, truthfully. Many didn't come to her for aid except when they needed things from her forest. She was, in essence, a glorified park warden with little to do with the outside world because of her ties to the woods.

"What kind of offerings do you speak of?"

Storm emerged from somewhere in the cellar with a canteen of liquor. Drinking from it, he looked around at the two ladies seated in the Pub. Bowing awkwardly, he took a seat a bit away from them.

The smell of alcohol barraged Shenandoah's sensitive nose as the man entered the common room of the inn. Wrinkling the offended orifice in response, she frowned at him and the smell of drink coming from his bottle. Typically, she liked the smell of some alcoholic beverages... but this one was a bit much. Fortunately, the aeromatic smell of cider blocked some of it soon enough as she had her mug of cider returned to her, fresh and filled.

Noticing Shen's frown, Storm laughed lightheartedly. Now that he had gotten used to the place, he was not as nervous as he had been the previous day.

"I can hold my drinks. Don't worry about it," Storm chuckled. He didn't quite mind that he wasn't of age yet; he'd been on his own since a long time ago and did whatever he pleased.

She snorted. "It is not the drinking that bothers me, boy..." she replied in a slightly tart manner. "It is the smell of that... drink you have. What is it?" To her nose, it had the smell of something that could strip paint.

"Eon-old Krupnik," Storm replied. "Well, what is supposed to be Krupnik. It's been distilled one too many times, and has been collecting dust for what seems like quite a while now."

"I am sure one pull on that bottle would likely send you under the table," she mused. "Whatever happened to mead? At least that was aeromatic." She inhailed deeply of her drink before taking a langorous sip.

Storm laughed again. "Mead? That, to me, isn't strong enough, hehe....I've gotten used to strong drink; it's a horrid habit. I don't care much for aroma...Speaking of which, there's a funny smell wafting from the kitchen. is Rem in and cooking?"

"I have no idea who 'Rem' is," Shenandoah said. "And you should not drink just to get drunk. You should enjoy without aiming to... as your kind says... get 'wasted'."