Rohane shook his head in disbelief before gesturing for the Lupe and Wocky to go forward. In the back of his mind, he started wondering if it was better to turn back—to shop at the market before crowds gathered around him like flies to rancid meat. But a pang of hunger made the decision for him: he was going in. Jeran gave the rusted doorknob a solid tug. The door pivoted with a screech, announcing their presence with all the subtlety of a mewling petpet. A hushed silence fell across the dining room as the duo made their way inside. Rohane followed a few steps behind, instinctively pulling his hood closer to further hide his face and ears. As soon as the Blumaroo stepped through the door, a wave of eyes flicked upon him, instantly branding him as an outsider. The Blumaroo couldn’t help but gulp. Waning candlelight on each long table illuminated the unkempt, rugged faces of the patrons from below, making them appear menacing. Cobwebs hung from the dimly lit wooden beams, casting rhomboid shadows upon the wall. Sure, Rohane and his friends had been to some less-than-ideal inns over the years, but this place made even the most ramshackle rooms look like a luxury hotel.