Maybe her experience with taverns is limited, but skeevy men in skeevy bars? Less so. Those existed in every world and every century. That didn't mean Ruby was wrong to worry, though, Emma had a temper even in the best of circumstances. She liked to think she wasn't the same woman that had bounced a man's head off a steering wheel for pointing out the truth, yet with so much darkness pumping through her veins, her temper seemed even stronger than ever.

"I think I'd rather the stew." It'd probably been cooked for hours to the point you couldn't tell what was what, but if it was cooked to death maybe the germs had been cooked to death, too. Still, she followed after Red with a surprising docility. She was still finding her feet with her curse, and she was damn lucky to have someone she knew and trusted to help her, but it didn't hurt to be careful.

The roar of sound was a little overwhelming, and Emma's attention delayed to the place Red had her by the wrist. Doesn't she deserve to know what you are? How dangerous it is to be close to you? Apparently even in a roaring crowd, the little whispers could catch up with her. "Huh?" Emma said intelligently, shaking her head and catching Ruby's eyes. "Okay, sure." Was it at all obvious that she was having a hard time paying attention?