Zanna walks into the tavern rubbing her eyes in a sleepy notion. She goes and sits at a lone table in the corner and lies her head down on it. She looks around and notices that alot of people are dressed the same, and coughing the same as Fancy. She wonders to herself, "Is everyone in this town sick? What's going on?" She then buries her face in her arms and closes her eyes drifting into a light slumber, but still listening to everyone around her.
Zanna cocks her head up at the mention of a flu. She looks onto Wyndfere with a curious expression. She walks over to were he is sitting and looks at the people around the tavern . "I heard you mention something about a flu?" She questions him, "Do you know who these people are, and what's going on?" Just before Zanna finished her last word a man walked by with a gruesome hacking cough that made Zanna flinch lightly.
Without looking Windfere replies, "I heard from a bird that the Ressik army came into town not to long ago. Even they were rendered unfit to fight because of the flu. Their dead bodies emitted a disgusting odor that still lingers in town. But I have no idea of the origins as I've only recently stopped in Jastery."
He finally looks at Zanna, "Perhaps, you're the one who will find the cure, Emperyean. You're probably the most intelligent one around here just because of your race alone. It seems like this town harbors brutes and unruly savages who rely on their blades too much anyway."
Once finished, Wyndfere scratches his arm with his beak, pecking at it.
Zanna listens to Wyndfere intently, all the while looking around at the army. "I really don't like the looks of this. . and perhaps. . I think it's time to pay a trip to Lady Rhadama."
Zanna looks to Wyndfere and bows her head, "Thank you for your information kind Ixifar." With that she turns swiftly out the tavern door to the healers den.
Wyndfere sits away from the many townsfolk in the tavern. He notices the same thing Zanna noticed. And wonders why they haven't stayed in bed that morning.
He sees a couple sickly people give him odd looks like they've never seen an Ixifar in their life. He flusters his feathers vigorously to intimidate them and they shy away from glancing his way any longer.
Then under his breath, "Great. Now everyone's going to blame us birds. Bloody bird flu. Why doesn't anyone blame the humans? Call it The Sapien Flu and see how they like it."