The head of the lioness hood turned seemingly before the rest of the man who bore it; the shoulders canting slightly, but the broad chest, torso and legs remained as firmly planted yet spry. The glare beneath the fanged cowl was judgmental as it scrutinized the stout, sturdy dwarven man wrapped in dull plain-cloth with a burlap shirt about over it, but the attention turned more mildly aggressive at the woman and her glinting weapon. The elf, as graceful and charming in presence as any of, carried upon her slender hip an elaborate silver blade, studded at the hilt with a gem. Yet this elf was [i]too[/i] familiar for the liking of "The Red", for she was no less than one in the same as the day before, as was the dwarf. Something had transpired... in spite of these turn of events - a formerly wounded dwarf and an exceptionally fair skinned elf with vicious eyes of blood red - the wildman had little choice. In favor of these circumstances or not, clearly they were of use. [i]"Now what's this whole meetin' up business for?"[/i] The dwarf sauntered to the woman with the green eyes while the elven woman followed silently a little ways behind. Without further address, "The Red" folded his arms across the pelt and hide clad armor of his chest; to anyone familiar with the demeanor of a predatory cat, it was irritation. Discomfort at being in this city still and now finding himself in this situation. The end however, was well worth the means... demons being no minor or idle threat, as this town had learned - the scarred flesh of the Tiger of Men bore witness to that as well, no less. Quiet now as he was, taking no part in the blossoming conversation between several members and the green eyed woman, his low, long breath drew again as he controlled his temper and mettle alike. It was not long before a sleight voice called out from nearby and then touch, perking his attention and rousing him from his passiveness. The reaction was subtle surprise, not that interaction leveled upon him [i]but that someone had the nerve to touch him.[/i] The faint tap upon his knee, "The Red" scowled with tangible offense at the act; contact, at all, was a reserved thing. [i]"Down here!"[/i] The halfling began, her rich brown eyes looking up to him, [i]"Hi."[/i] The aura of menace to the wilderman did not take long to be felt - the same subtly evoked instinct as to having slighted a beast of the land - as his emotions and instinct influenced his magical essence while he grimmaced; the [i]essentia[/i] itself. "The Red" knew of halflings, the smaller folk of men, enough to know that they were not terribly impacted by intimidation, but this reaction was inherent; uncontrolled. The unwanted touch elicited this response - all of the remaining man in "The Red" be damned, there was more animal to him in recent times. She offered her hand to the brute with a calm, childish smile. [i]"I'm Regina, by the way. What's your name?"[/i] "The Red" stared into her eyes as she remained calm, aloof and several feet clear of the ground outside the inn; the thick, almost pawed hand with clawed nails, of his right tensed upon the upper of his left arm's ample muscle. There resulted in a long, drawn out silence from the event, enough so that it quickly became unnatural, awkward, but even that would likely prove not to disillusion the small woman. [i]"The Red."[/i] He uttered lightly in a stern growl, the words only audible enough at this distance between he and the levitating halfling; some notion of dragons taking place about while psion and savage engaged in minor "conversation". Not for a moment did the man's hands move. [@Belwicket][@Dragoknighte][@IcePezz]