Maya, upon her trusted stallion, went along the trail with no destination in mind. Her mentality was that if she followed the path, she would reach a destination. She didnt know what that destination was or how....friendly it would be, but it would be another story to tell to attentive ears. Speaking of, she glumly noted how few those ears seemed, even fewer attatched to a person willing to listen. She knew it was more than likely her lack of magic in her song to captivate them, but try as she might, she never seemeed to have a grasp of magic, even of the musical variety. Her face beamed with hope as she imagined all the people at her unknown destination, ready and waiting to hear her tales of adventure. This little fantasy she created distracted her from her temporary glumness, and any traveller could see the cheer pick up on her face, and with such an expression of joy, one could see why she was called Canary. She looked like a carefree songbird, that is, if songbirds rode horses.

　　After many hours more she approached a tavern, much to her delight and releif. It had been far too long since she had a good, warm and filling meal and far too long since her steed had been properly groomed. In high spirits, she dismounted and took her bag of supplies upon herself, taking the reins of her horse and leading them in to the tavern stables. Her eyes brightened at the prospect of playing some music within, and the fact it had rooms for the night. That would be a wonderful repreive from her long travel, one she looked forward to eagerly. Once her horse was taken care of, she entered the warm glow of the tavern and set her bag down, ordering a warm stew and ale. She ate slowly, savouring every bute as she eyed the patrons. It seemed like a friendly crowd, quiet and not too drunk. But to her dismay, she spotted a man and a woman who appeared to be bards, engaged in conversation. It looked more like an argument of sorts, but she didnt let that bother her. If they were occupied, she could preform and they would never know. However, that was not meant to be, as the male bard was scanning the room. A smile came to his face as he saw Maya, and, dismissing the female bard, sauntered over to Maya.

　　She tucked a bit of her wheat colored hair behing an ear, her eyes firmly fixed on her meal. However, she was painfully aware that her bright red dress set her apart from many of the other patrons. The male bard sat down with a suave smile... And began to flirt. Maya pursed her lips as she tried to ignore him, but he soon noticed the lute among her possesions and smiled.

　　"Another bard? This is certainly a surprise!"

　　She looked up at him in surprise. He did not seem hostile, or angry she was here. Many other bards had chased her out of taverns and inns, feeling she intruded on their territory.

　　"What's it to you?"

　　She couldn't help the short and sharp response. Men either wanted you or what you had. They rarely stopped just to talk, in her experience. He simply smiled and gestured the female bard over, who sat on the other side of Maya, closing her in...