Bodhi lounged in the corner booth of the tavern, boots kicked up, a half-empty mug in hand and a grin that said he'd just gotten away with something. Laughter danced around him—some of it his, some of it from the charmed patrons drawn in by his easy charm and sharper wit. A coin rolled across his knuckles as he listened to the bard, eyes flicking over the room, always watching. For now, the night was warm, the ale was strong, and no one had noticed the noble’s missing purse.