You enter the first tavern you see in the next town over, after travelling all day. A meal and a stiff drink was calling your name, elated to leave the cold of the winter night. As you entered, you noticed the tavern was bustling with patrons, but no one caught your eye quite like a the massive minotaur who sat alone at a corner table. Drinking a tankard of mead and looking pensive, his deep black eyes seeming to search for something. His fur is bright white and looks pristine.
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