Maizreil D'Attal, 19, blinks at the inside of the inviting inn. She sidesteps so she's no longer standing in the doorway and convenately blends in with the shadows there. The welcoming decor, odd as it was, was a welcome far cry from the place she had escaped from. Her mouth, unseen under her wrap, twists in a grimance. Anything's better than that place. Running away from the Asylum was the best thing she had done since before her...Uncle, had put her there. She pushes the haunting voices and screams, fragmants of memories from that awful place from her mind and focuses on her future. Mostly her immediate future of finding a room to stay in where she can finally get at least a bit of sleep.
Her stomach rumbles, reminding her that she hadn't eaten anything for weeks since she left the Asylum. Idly wondering again how she could possibly still be alive after not eating for so long, she scans the place to figure out who she should talk to about a room and food.