"No, this fun yours."  Huni says in broken common to the Yalamir, after downing her tankard.  Finishing the draft gave her time to think over his question, struggle through her limited vocabulary, and then fashion as polite of a no as she was able.  Or, maybe, just willing to give.    She reaches up, wiping at the sweat on her brow, then grips the beaded top and flaps it to provide airflow. Damnable muggy heat, the barren was a different sort, a dry blistering sun that she was prepared for.  This jungle heat that seemed to inflame passions only served her to feel as if she was drowning in sweat.  The shaman woman considered calling for spirits for assistance, but smirked at her own private isolence.  She laughed at the roaring tauren, who was held captive to two pairs of tits, amused at his twitching delight.<br/><br/>When the blood elf slides into a seat naked a few spots down, she waves for another drink, speaking to her briefly.  "Even your tits are blushing, little one.  Did something you're ashamed of?"  The Night Elf that settles nearby is eyed, but not challenged further, simply considering the woman's movements and physique with a careful eye.  Who knows, today they share a drink, tomorrow they might find a battle.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>