Tanz Mit Mir - The Wayward

"You have a sharp ear, Mr. Sigmund. Born and bred Hamburger. Now, I was never much for accents myself," she admitted, "let alone gleaning them from a different language. But you don't strike me as a Northerner, you're not round enough. A mountain man, maybe?"

Sigmund flashed a wry smile, and allowed himself a modest celebratory sip of wine. It was a small victory, but for the exhausted old man it was just the boost he needed to buoy his spirits.

"You've a keen eye Monika" He noted, with an appreciative tilt of his wine glass.

"I'm from a small town in Tyrol; in the Alps. 'Land der Berge, Land der Schönheit*'" He exclaimed wistfully.

"My mother used to say 'thin air made for thin folk', which may be the culprit for my lack of roundness! Though it's not for lack of effort on my part; as Alec's poor wallet can now attest! I eat like a starving zugpferd.**"

Sigmund leaned backward slightly, chuckling to himself and patting his now sated belly as it gurgled contentedly. For the first time since he'd been dragged out of the Granitkammer and bundled into a car the old Hunter felt at ease.

Any further rambling on Sigmund's part was cut short with the arrival of one of the bar staff carrying Monika's food with a rather grisly side order of work. Instead he sipped quietly at his wine and listened to the pair converse, eager to glimpse more information about the nature of American hunting. Though it wasn't long before the staff member in question turned to level her gaze in his direction

"You need anything else, you let me know, I'm Devin, welcome to the Wayward."

"Vielen dank Devin. It's a pleasure to meet you." he replied, with a polite nod.

"My meal was beyond delightful, I'd appreciate if you passed my compliments onto the chef. With that aside, I hate to impose but there's only one other thing I really need... Do you happen to have a phone I could use? I have a rather important call to make and I'm afraid I don't carry a handy"

*'Land of Mountains, Land of Beauty"
**'Cart Horse'

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