The night was just setting it, you could feel the cold prickling at your skin as you trudged through the snow looking for somewhere to warm up. You practically throw yourself against the door of a lively tavern, feeling the rush of heat as you enter. The place was busy but warm. The tavern seemed to have rooms. You approached the bar needing something warm to eat or drink, your skin stung with cold.

“Well well well.” A man beside you spoke in a Texan accent, a hare daemon beside him.