Something we've got to talk about. That is a collection of words that can be exceptionally alarming in any context, and ever since the curse was broken, the potential for terribleness kind of escalated a little. Ruby's biggest problems were feeling like she'd be stuck in a small fishing town in Maine for her whole life. The potential for terrible once magic was brought back into the picture and you could feel the monster lurking underneath your skin again for the first time in, what? Three decades? It was kind of a spike. Maybe something happened in Storybrooke, or maybe something happened to Emma. Right now, she has no idea. The only thing that really has any significance is that Emma needs to talk. Though Red has pushed herself up to stand, she lingers by Emma for a moment to squeeze her shoulder.

"Of course. These ears are all the better for hearing with, so... you've come to the right person." It's a lame joke, but Red is kind of a lame person, gifted with an encouraging smile. "And you got it, Sheriff. I'll ask for a side of extra e.coli."

And with that, she sweeps away to place an order at the bar, weaving past burly men with axes. She's not gone long, and returns with two giant wooden steins of beer, setting one down in front of Emma before she slides back into the seat. "Apparently this from a brewery in a place called Denerim. And the guy at the bar had never heard of any of the towns I mentioned, and looked at me weird when I mentioned Queen Snow White. He almost didn't give me the beer."