"One pipin' hot bowl of Yakmel Stew, as you ordered." The velvety-smooth deep voice of the tavern owner reaches your ears as he places the bowl in front of you.

It both looks and smells delicious, as expected from Owen.

"You eatin' alone today or you got someone joinin' you?" He asks, pulling your attention to him once more.

He offers a warm smile that creases the corners of his eyes, his sapphire blues peering into yours, eager for a conversation.