Her mare could use a drink.

And so could Randa.

She appreciated the fact she had "acquired" the dark colored horse at the start of the caravan rather than a camel; horses were more honest about their needs and she didn't really wish to start this venture with a riding animal that suddenly dropped dead because it was, intentionally or not, hiding its own need of food and water. She had dismounted once the oasis town had been sighted to give her beast some relief and plodded along after the others. It might not have been so strange that the petite traveler had her own steed but up until now, she had kept an unusual distance from most of the caravan with the exception of Becka, and had also remained bundled up in a comfy but well worn cloak and riding clothes that covered ever inch of her except for part of her face. She didn't exactly want to advertise that she was half-orc. ...Or that she was the notorious Inferno Witch, but maybe it won't come up?

"Any of you been here before?" she asks dryly before enigmatically: "My experience says we need to try the oldest Inn or tavern here first, and then the newest if that doesn't work out."