By now, Juniper was pretty sure she could call herself adventurous. This had to be her third? Fourth? Her fourth festival she'd dressed up for and thrown herself into solo. Maybe she'd find some of her friends here, maybe not, she didn't care. What mattered was that she'd thrifted up a vest that looked vaguely 'hobbity' and a satchel, so she fit in, and gone out to the faire to see the sights, smell the smells, and eat the food.
And drink the drinks! In the midst of brilliant display of costumes, shops, and other attractions, she remembered she could partake of the drinks. That was quite novel, and Juniper hauled herself right into an open air bar with the Tavern Aesthetic down pat, down to the wooden tables, sticky floors, and buxom bar maidens. She felt like she was in the midst of a Dungeons and Dragons campaign, and that, at any moment, someone was going to give her a quest.
Still feeling fresh with her legal drinking status, she did not dare try the whisky drinks without Mr. Crowhurst's discerning eye to guide her. Sure, she could've winged it, but it was admittedly also more expensive. So she stuck to the cider, and found it refreshing and sweet. With her metabolism, however, that was as far as she got, which made it a inferior drink to her undeveloped palate. Soda would've been the better sweet cool drink, unless she drank a lot of cider. Or perhaps, she ought to try something more expensive...
The tiger eyed the menu for long enough that she began to feel awkward standing at the bar. At the end, she considered this this a momentarily failed experiment--especially since nobody seemed to miraculously have a quest for her. The girl made her way out of the bar, undaunted, in the mood to try something fried and on a stick or a turkey leg.
Unfortunately, Juniper was not accustomed to carrying the satchel that came with the outfit, low effort or not. She was halfway across the fair when she realized she'd left it in her booth, and quickly turned on her heel to retrace her steps.
Finding her way back into the bar, she craned her neck to get a look over the heads in the crowded bar, only to see that her old booth was occupied. Shouldering her way through the crush of people, she reached the table, a little breathless and rosy-cheeked, asking its' occupant with a slightly concerned smile, “Hey, hi- Sorry- Did you see a bag when you got in here?”
Unfortunately, the bag would seemingly not be at the table any more. Instead, it had fallen to the floor, out of sight, and accidentally kicked under the heavy booth, hiding closer to the seating area one space over.