It seemed she always found herself her, in the quiet stillness of the Ark before normal operating hours. As always, she had her music playing quietly overhead, the cavernous metal corridors of the ship easily amplifying the music and giving the space the eerie otherworldliness that so often occupied spaces that were typically filled with noise. She hummed quietly along with the music, occasionally allowing a few lyrics to fall from her lips as she cleaned and sorted the glasses for the upcoming crowds. Every night was a busy night in the Ark, but tonight was set to be a major match and so no doubt it would be even more so. Her hair was cinched loosely at the base of her neck before flowing into a waterfall of soft blonde curls over her back almost to her narrow hips which swayed gently to the music's rhythm until something cause the hair on her neck to stand on end. It was that feeling of being watched from across a room, doubly odd as there shouldn't be anyone in the space at this time of day. Her nose twitched as she caught his scent in the recycled air, the fact that he was not a Were rather a surprise considering the Arks typical clientele.
At the sound of his footsteps approaching the bar she turned around, letting her hazel eyes scan up his figure until they landed on his angular face and mop of dark hair. What exactly he was she still couldn't quite place, but at least he didn't keep her wondering about what he was doing here. Her gaze slid to the envelope he placed on the bar boldly emblazoned with the name of ship's owner and alpha. What did he want with Tetradore?
She watches his eyes leave her and return to roving around the metal façade of the ships interior, the balcony overhead and the chained walls of the arena below. There was a lot to take in if you weren't used to it, which he very obviously wasn't.
Looking back at the envelope she reached a slender hand towards it.