The door slowly opened and a tall man walked out, carefully handling a tea cup in his hands. His eyes were concentrated on not spilling any of it, though he knew he probably would not spill it--you would never know with his luck lately. Bundled up in his warm jacket, Lucius merely snorted to himself. It was a fair morning; granted it was rather cold, but it was something he had grown accustomed to back in London. He scrunched his nose at the thought. But back to the thought of weather; he was in a good mood this morning, no need or want to ruin it with bad memories. There were some scattered flurries falling from the dark grey sky. He looked out for a moment and walked over towards the edge. No one seemed to be awake, which Lucius found rather appealing to the atmosphere, but then again, who would want to be outside in the freezing cold and snow?
Lucius brought the cup up to his lips and took a small sip. He was new to this place and certainly did not know the lifestyle or the habits of people who came before him--but he would not dwell on that fact; he thought himself to be rather adaptable. The warm sensation of the liquid ran down his throat and he let out a sigh of relaxation. He had not been able to enjoy a well-made cup of tea since he left London those many moons ago. After admiring the area for a little while, taking occasional sips from his small cup, he allowed himself back inside of the Inn, where he would retreat back to his room and retrieve a book. To him, it felt like a wonderful day for reading--if only he knew where to find a fireplace now, then it would have been absolutely perfect.