New arrival

 Her golden eyes intricately searched the building she had encountered upon. She lifted her chin to take in the scent of the air, which she found to portray signs of death and decay, but as well a sway of a wholesome welcoming?  Her fur tickled slightly through the wind as she continued. She reached the doors of the unknown, stone-worked building . Hoping to seek a sort of hospitality she could pull into her grasp, she gently laid her hands upon the wooden doors. She slowly pushed them open, a shattered ray of light bestowing upon her orange colored fur. Her ears perked up to detect anything she hadn't already.   After entering, she glared, frantically, examining every inch of what she had now gathered to be some sort of tavern. Dying, or seemingly despondent, commoners lay desperate, slumped against tables. Others give her differently implied looks. Some curious. Some frightened. Some excited.  “Where am I?…” She whispered

When the fox enters the tavern, she finds it busy as per usual. The people around the tables and at the bar look thin and worn, tired. But they chat, drink what remains of the liquor and ale, and eat the mostly leafy stew prepared by the kitchen. They cut glances at her and some eyes widen in shock and fear while others appear to be too tired to care much.

As she enters, a man behind the bar looks up. He is a larger man, though he looks as though he has lost weight as his flesh hangs a little loose around his arms and midsection. He has a scruffy beard and a receding hairline of dark hair.

"Oi! Welcome to tha Weepin' Rose! Ain't seen you before, little la- You ain't really a lady are ya? Got those ears and tail..." He picks up a mug and sets it on the bar. "You one a them uh... Beastfolk?"

She shifted her focus onto the burly, but worn man. Her eyebrows furrowed a bit in annoyance before she quickly drew over her hood, tilting her head down.
Hesitantly, she spoke. "I'm not from this area.. but I was curious if you could spare a little nourishment?”
Her broken accent implied hints of German. Her voice was quiet and still, obviously avoiding any bit of specific information about herself. Shortly after she spoke, a faint growl trickled from her chest. Not out of aggression, but nervousness.

The barkeep's eyes look her up and down, taking in her features and dress. "Ya got coin? I got food. No coin? Go to the Guild o' Light. They may have a free meal for ya."

He hesitates and then sighs. "Dammit all. Wait here." 

The barkeep turns and walks through a doorway covered by a curtain. He returns a few moments later with a steaming bowl. He sets it on the counter and pushes it towards her. Then he takes the mug and turns to a cask behind him. He fills the mug with a murky looking brew and then turns back and sets it beside the bowl.

"Here. Don' let no one say I ain't do nothin' for no one." He mumbles and watches her.

He looks around, spotting a few people looking their way, he reaches onto the counter and pretends to slide something towards himself. "Go on. Eat. Drink. Ya look like you could use it." 

When she sits at the bar to eat and drink, she finds the bowl is mostly water mixed with some type of leafy plant and a few lumps of meat with the familiar scent and texture of rabbit meat. The mug is full of a murky brown ale that tastes like bitter water.

"Consider it an advance. I 'spect to be paid later." He whispers, leaning over towards her so she can hear him better over the sounds of the tavern.

After a bit of thought, she nods to him subtly, although her intentions were quite the opposite. She planned to take what she could and leave. This was an unknown, grey area she did not wish to play around with.

She couldn't trust people. Not anymore.

Looking down at the odd…muted pantone colored stew, she picked up the worn metal spoon and stirred it weakly. Hesitantly, she brought a small tasting to her lips. Her eyes got slightly wider, she looked up at the barkeep trying not to show her utter disgust. As she forced a swallow, a cough slipped out from her chest.

Grabbing the mug next to her, she hoped to wash the foul taste out of her mouth, but she was quickly proven otherwise. She groaned at the pungent, revolting flavor of the ale.
She wasn't sure whether to push herself to consume all of this now, or act as though she was full. Or even flat out say it was awful.

She could tell these people were in a pitiful state, a small part of her wondered if she could fetch a bit of game for them to take to their use.

A 7 foot tall beastkin with brown fur and the features of a wolf walks into the tavern and starts heading to one of the tables on the side of the room. About half way there he stops and sniffs the air before walking directly up to the hooded figure at the bar.

“Excuse me for intruding but you’re new in town, yes?” He leans on the bar with one arm. “I’m not usually nosy like this but I’ve seen Beastkin getting confused for werewolves more than usual lately and I’m not one to let someone face that alone.”