Rivin had no expectations as he entered the inn. His only concern had really been to find a drink light enough not to dull his senses completely but strong enough to help the frustrated feeling that still was stewing inside of him. He restrained himself from putting his fist through the bar all through his order, even keeping himself from taking the mug and smashing it to pieces on the floor. Taking a deep breath in, he blew it out in frustration through his nostrils. He hadn't had a target escape him like that. Ever. He wanted to know how. A growl began low in his throat which he masked by taking a deep swallow. Drums caught his attention. Spinning on the bar stool, he stared.
How he hadn't seen them before, he wasn't sure. Wanderers in Sapphire? He'd seen a show once, but never a fire show like this. His heart seemed to try and match the beats of the drum as he watched the dancers. The flames made accents, spirals, but the dancers were the true art. He was so startled when it was finished that it took the rest of the crowd's voices to make him realize it. The central dancer had captivated him. And just like that, he realized, startled again, that his rage had cooled. That was a true talent indeed. Ordering a glass of wine, he walked to where the dancer had stepped off the stage. "Thank you for your dance," he said with a small smile that only just touched his eyes, "Would you accept a drink?" It wasn't much of an offering really, but he didn't have much on him at the moment that would have really complemented the performance, at least in his mind. Truthfully, he was a bit surprised at his own boldness.