<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ccff99">Ayla took a slow, steadying breath. The sort of thing Drakus was used to seeing before she punched someone. Hard. but instead she just smiled. </span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a6ff4d">“Shar Tessa. Congratulations on making your Mastery. Though I’m surprised, with your skill in transmutation you should have been able to fix that nose a long time ago.</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ccff99">” the smile on her face and tone of her voice maintained perfect pleasantry, though her words were anything but.</span><br/><br/><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4dffa6">&lt;walk away Ayla. It isn’t worth it. Just come upstairs. please.&gt;</span></i><br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff9999">The elven woman straightened up to her full height at the comment, gritting her teeth.</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff4d4d"> “Of course a child such as yourself would only think of the superficial benefits of magic. I’m surprised you stopped hiding those… skin blemishes of yours…”</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff9999"> she looked down her nose at Ayla’s face, and the smattering of freckles.</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff4d4d"> “But you’re still using magic to tame that unruly mane of yours. I’m surprised you even have the skill to maintain that. Or did your brother do it for you?”</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff9999"> she turned to look at the bartender pointedly, as he had not yet brought her drink. </span>