[And Alanna's sticking her head in; she's mostly been making patrols of the island, no matter how gods-cursed cold it is. For once, what she's wearing isn't a glorified bedsheet... though it has roughly the same fit. It's wool, but Alanna is at the very least warm without having to abuse her Gift- or mostly-warm.
She shuffled in, looking the patrons over before sitting down at the bar, a few seats away from the lady. She's scrubbing at her face, trying to get feeling back into it.]
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She shuffled in, looking the patrons over before sitting down at the bar, a few seats away from the lady. She's scrubbing at her face, trying to get feeling back into it.]