Cyrus/James | The Kranky Knight | early evening
Cyrus wasn't necessarily blind to the tension in the city, but as someone who had chosen to make his home here after the most recent catastrophe, perhaps he was slightly less sensitive to the undercurrents of discontent. The festival seemed -- to him -- a bright and happy endeavor despite the ongoing construction. For once, his tendency to get lost had served him well, for he'd likely wandered a solid half of the vendors and events already since setting out in the morning, running into people he knew here and there, consuming a great deal of the food on offer, and finally, as twilight began to descend, winding up here in this tavern which boasted outdoor signs advertising specials accented with colorful flags and a selection of food and drink more than sufficient for a simple man with a big appetite but not a whole lot of money.
Luck was with him, as he'd managed to snag the last available table. He'd just received his first mug of ale when a familiar and unexpected figure appeared in the doorway. Immediately, a grin spread across Cyrus' face and he stood and waved, his height making him unlikely to be missed. His fellow Ranger wasn't looking particularly friendly, but it had never bothered Cyrus -- James was a good man, under the occasionally gruff behavior, and the two of them had always gotten along well enough. Once he was certain the other man had seen him, Cy's smile grew as he called, "You're in luck -- I've got your seat right here." It seemed that aside from exploring the city, this festival would be a good opportunity to catch up with an old friend.