Ugh. Me backside. A long ride through storm and wind wasn't my idea of fun, but it'll be worth it. Ah, The Red Boar! There she is. I realize I look a fright as I hurl the door open. I wring out the muddy corners of my bratt just outside and hang my sopping tartan from a peg by the entrance. A few Germans look askance at me, chortling over their breakfasts at my tangled hair and muddy boots.
"Barkeep!" I call out, looking around for someone I will willingly give my purse to, if only they can bring me something hot to fill my grumbling belly . . .