[crow]

Armid was a trading town, so there ought to have been no shortage of such places. However, the traders who came to Armid tended to be familiar with the town and its residents, and perhaps knew some identifying aspects that Dante himself did not. He wandered about the streets for some time and was somewhat dismayed to discover that he could not tell which of the buildings offered lodgings. They were almost universally small; two storeys were very rare, and many of the wider buildings seemed to be storefronts rather than inns.

[crow]

He was, at last, beginning to appreciate what Rava might have offered him. Perhaps he ought to be glad that the opportunity was still available, and that he had not been able to utterly refuse it earlier.

At length, however, he did locate a few establishments clustered close together, all of which advertised their nature more openly. Unfortunately, he had found them in what was very clearly the finer part of town, as evidenced by the wares displayed in the nearby shopfronts.

[crow]

He had little doubt that the lodgings would be nice enough in terms of size and amenities, but their price would almost certainly be beyond his comfortable means, and would likely purchase him less than what he could have gotten for as much in a town that was less out of the way.

He almost considered abandoning the idea altogether, but to quit without even having made the attempt seemed like too much a defeatist notion. He picked one of the self-advertised inns at random and entered.

[crow]

There was a soft chime from the door as he did so, and a woman at the front glanced up, smiling at him in welcome. Dante bowed his head slightly in greeting, surreptitiously taking a survey of the receiving area.

The space around the counter was small, but arranged tastefully, with a potted plant to one side and a large mirror hung on the wall opposite, to give the illusion of a larger space. Beyond that, Dante could just make out where it opened to a wider seating area.

[crow]

Quiet murmured voices and laughter was audible from within, as well as the occasional clinking of what sounded like plates and cutlery. It wasn’t crowded, but there were patrons, and the general air was that of a well curated location.

“You must have come a long way,” said the woman as he approached the counter. She was dark and simply dressed, though the fabric itself was orange and vibrant with patterns. Simple gold bands glistened on her fingers, and drops that might have been citrines hung from her ears.

[crow]

Dante, wearing his still damp cloaks, must have been truly unsightly in comparison. He surmised that it must have been because he was clearly from out of town that she did not refuse him service immediately. Someone foreign passing through might merely have been an eccentric after all, and able to afford the price of the lodgings, but one of the desert’s own folk, looking in such a destitute state… Well. Then again, perhaps not. There was much he did not know about their culture, after so short a time as he had spent amongst them.

[crow]

“Yes,” he said, for there was no point in attempting to deny the obvious. The desert folk had made it clear enough time and time again just how poorly he blended in. He swept the hood of his cloak back, revealing the small wry smile writ upon his features. If he could not look presentable, he might still allow the woman to see the face of the person she was dealing with, now that he was safely indoors. He admired her professionalism, that she was able to smile pleasantly at him beforehand, but he thought he might make her job a little easier on her if he could.

[crow]

“Let me guess,” she said, still smiling, “you’re looking for a place to stay.” Dante nodded, and she gestured toward the interior. “We have rooms available, certainly. The smallest let for fifty keystones a night, but if you wish for something more luxurious…?” She arched a brow at him.

He knew full well that he didn’t look the type to be able to afford any measure of luxury. While it wasn’t patently untrue, Dante hadn’t planned to spend a great deal here, and fifty keystones was already a steeper price than he could comfortably tolerate.

[crow]

Dante shook his heat at that. “Thank you,” he said, and turned to leave. There was no need to waste any more of her time than he already had.

“If you’re looking for a cheap place, you’re in the wrong part of town,” said the woman. She didn’t sound displeased so much as amused. Dante stopped, and turned halfway to listen, in case she wished to offer him any advice on where he might find a place to stay. “It’s confusing for an outsider, isn’t it? The smaller houses don’t have signage as nice as ours.”

[crow]

His kind must not have been terribly uncommon in these parts after all, despite Armid’s location in the desert. He merely gave her a chagrined smile in reply. She laughed aloud at that. “If you want some advice…”

“Gladly,” said Dante.

“For a smaller sum of coin, you’re more likely to end up in someone’s spare bedroom; most people can’t afford to run a dedicated guesthouse here. But they’ll hang dried garlands of spices from their windows or doors if they’re willing to take in a weary traveler such as yourself,” said the woman. “Garlic is the general favorite.”

[crow]

"Thank you," he said, with some degree of feeling. Frankly, he was already relieved enough that she hadn’t taken umbrage to his presence here once it became apparent that he couldn’t afford a room. To have received friendly advice, honestly given as far as he could tell, was beyond what he had hoped to expect.

"No, no, think nothing of it," said the woman. "Though if you'd like to repay the favor in kind, I do find myself rather curious about where you've come from, to be dressed so... severely."

[crow]

Dante could only give an awkward laugh in response to her words. It would be the clothes, wouldn't it? He knew already that they made him stand out, but to hear firsthand the impression that she had crafted to go with them... Well, it wouldn't be any different if he didn't know, he supposed, but it was still a shock to hear it spoken, even though it shouldn't be.

"I... hail from the north," he said, motioning to himself. It wasn't precisely true, but the explanation did match the paleness of his skin.

[Wild Pet Found]