Laughing. Chatter.  Yells from outside. Jugs and glasses clattering. A few low moans here or there.
The Worgen woke up from the whatever trance-kind-of condition she was in, blinking a few times in her state of confusion. She was still in the tavern. She was still wearing her clothes. People were still drinking, save the few spending time in more... intimate ways. She figured no one had drugged her and instead, she had fallen into her own world of dreaming. A low sigh parted from her lips as the Worgen fixed her stance and looked around, subconsciously hoping to see something interesting. She wasn't completely sure what would interest her at the moment, but it had to be something. She hadn't had sex for a long time, for example. Nor a proper brawl. Just when the woman was about to take a long-desired sip from her alcoholic drink, it came. The thing she subconsciously had hoped for, though in a way she hadn't accounted for - instead of seeing, hearing or even smelling, she felt it. And it felt remarkably similiar to someone's hand on her rear, but instead of simply staying there, it boldly slid towards her inner thigh. The hand felt warm and teasing movements confident - especially when it reached the woman's crotch and felt an organ a female shouldn't have. The Worgen, having already forgotten being in a public place and the presence of around 40 other people, lightly moved herself against the soft hand before gathering her courage and looking over her shoulder. The view was exactly the view she knew she had hoped for. A tall, slender Draenei which, at first glance, seemed female, though the gender quickly turned to questionable as the Worgen's glance drifted to the large, half-erect member between the Draenei's legs, on which the eredar worked with her other hand. Deeming the creature cute even before hearing a single sentence, the Worgen's affliction did nothing but grow as the Draenei parted her lips and let out a soft, friendly question, accompanied by a sweet smile: "What's your name?".