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You sit yourself down at the bar, scooting the barstool close to the counter. You notice the bartender working in front of you. They seem to be working on a drink for the patron seated next to you. Observing their technique, you begin to swallow dryly, noticing just now how dry and parched your throat has gotten since the chase. You question whether or not you ask the bartender for a beverage.

"Perhaps they'll also serve food?", you begin to think to yourself, mouth watering slightly at the thought. "What if they don't serve food and I just end up looking like a nuisance?", doubt begins to worm its way between you and a warm meal.