Rena laughed good-naturedly at the suggestion. "Well, if you can rustle up a musician, I can dance for them," she offered, her grin turning a bit impish. "If you give me permission to dance upon one of the tables, I am sure no one will even notice that supper is late." She laughed again, taking an ale from the bar to the table of the man she had promised one too earlier, taking a moment to reassure him that she had checked the kitchen and that the food was nearly ready to be served. That taken care of, she made her way back to the bar.
"I'm happy when you're happy," she assured him, reaching over to the bar to pour herself a mug of water from a nearby pitcher. "Speaking of being happy, where's Bridget?" she asked, glancing around the room for the child she had helped to care for all those years. Her tone was always affectionate when referring to her and she often asked after her when she wasn't underfoot. She couldn't help it; Bridget reminded her of the sisters she hadn't seen in 10 years and over the years she had grown very fond of her.