Just as they agreed, Abraham was waiting on Seraphina in the Tavern's main hall. Seated at one of the tables, the knight-errant has prepared something for them to munch on as they talk - that is, a large plate of ash-roasted potatoes, with salt, pepper and butter freely available as seasoning. There are also some drinks to the side, all non-alcoholic - if he recalls correctly, the now-Queen of Spring doesn't drink anything stronger than tea.
The thing is, Abraham looked... different. It's not about the clothing - he's in his usual range of colors, browns and darker greens, a casual set of a loong-sleeved shirt and breeches - but those with eyes open to fae matters will notice changes in his mien. But his skin and hair emit a faint metallic sheen,as if they're reflected in iron.
It's clear he's been outside - a sword, a bow with arrows and a knife lie on the bar, and a green duster coat hangs on the nail by the door leading into the Hedge. The Flowering needed to clear his head before today, but he's not been entirely succesful - there are still dark, heavy thoughts swirling in his mind. He tries to force them below the surface, but his grasp on them is tenuous at best.
So for the moment, he is waiting. Taking in the Tavern's ambience and the warmth of a burning out fireplace.
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