S'jira had always worked in the inn to help with the mending or the laundry during the midday hours. And she had recently taken up other duties in the marketplace to help with some of the merchants, as well as the docks during the day, S'jira found that most evenings and nights allowed for her to be within the ancient, infamous walls of the Red Dragon Inn.

Whether within RhyDin, or from times past within the lands of Llothgar, the small one had always found peace near a firepit or hearth --- not matter the time of day, year, or season. There, hearthside, she was often found since she had travelled into the realm over three years ago in the wake of her Master's death. It was hearthside that she still found her peace whether she was resting there completely or had in hand beadwork or mending.

In the months that had kept her so busy, she found that the more she spent of her evenings in the Red Dragon, the more new faces she saw. In wonder, she watched them just as curiously as she had from that first months she had arrived.

And if the crowds were not too dense or feral, new patrons or old would find her hearthside as much as a fixture to the place these days as the mugs at the bar or a chair within the room. Simple...and just s'jira. But it was something that brought the small woman peace, that routine and that portion of the inn itself.