Briar and Julius 9:45
One of them was startled, the other was clearly amused at her anger. Maeve stood at about 5'7, purposefully tall enough to reach things on taller shelves unlike Briar but not tall enough to intimidate the average bar patron. Certainly not the average Centaur apparently. The one that hadn't spilled a drink on her toddled forward and reached out to touch her face, a n action that had Maeve stepping forward into his space to grab his wrist, twisting it painfully before shoving against him.
Maybe something more would have happened. She was at that level of anger between irritated and scowly and ready to pull her knives, the awkward stage where you were twitchy enough that it could go either way. But then a familiar face and voice appeared in the corner of her eyes to shove a drink at the two idiots.
Against her will, she relaxed a bit as she watched the two stumble away. By no means did she trust Julius, she was no fool, but she knew how his mind worked and the peramiters he usually worked in. It was more than she could say for most, even her on some bad days. So she sighed and nodded at him, settled her hands on her hips as she glanced down at her skirt, "Were we feeling oddly generous or simply bored, Mr. FĂrinne?" But he received a grateful nod of acknowledgment in any case, the closest he could expect to a proper thank you, but it lacked the tired dryness of her 'question' at least.