A figure watched from the shadows, somewhere in the corner of the bar. She didn't seem to be shivering, odd considering her lack of any serious cold-weather gear. Evidently she hadn't been inside long, though none of the crew could've claimed to see her entering the ice-coated area. For all the world the dark-haired woman seemed simply to have formed from the shadows. A ridiculous notion, of course, but one that she nonetheless took great pride in creating.
She smiled contentedly, the action revealing twin rows of perfectly shaped incisors. It was amazing how much some people could notice, and yet miss at the same time. The new figure couldn't have been more different from those already in the bar. Where the Bretonian woman was bombastic, she was reserved, calculating even, though the term hardly seemed appropriate. She carried no visible weapons, as was the price of entry. It was common courtesy after all, even if one didn't use conventional entrances. Besides, she had all the weaponry she needed right between her ears.
