"Aye Thaler, I'll be off.". Alexander passed the man and found his way to the room in which the two women most recently in his acquaintance were talking. Well, [i]had[/i] been talking. Something had evidently gone awry, and Alexander feared for a moment that Ayla would be joining that prig in leaving the group. He claimed a bunk, throwing his pack on the ground and carefully laying his sword by the bedside. He looked to the dark-skinned woman, 'Mysaren' if he recalled correctly [which he usually did. Alexander rarely forgot a name, strangely enough], and let his smile grow.

He tried to piece together the parts of Ayla's departing comment that he heard, saying after a moment, "Don't worry too much about her, lass. Some folk get moods, 'specially those that've seen a fight or two in their time. Can't say I've ever stormed out of a room on account of one, but I'd not begrudge her, and I doubt she'd blame you for settin' one off.". He brushed himself off, and before Mysaren could respond began walking out. "Reckon I'll go find some breakfast around here. Bet these guards have some eggs, at least."

Breakfast wasn't the first thing on his mind, however. He was not sure why he felt the need to talk to Ayla, but he didn't think too hard on it. No matter the reason, making this group smooth would be good for everyone here. And, if she had good reason to be black, then that'd be good to hear. He caught up to the woman as she walked outside, stopping a handful of strides behind the woman and spoke in his loud bass.

"You off to get the rum, lass? If yer are, try not to get that lime-laced swill; limes never agreed with me, ye know?"