Catherine regarding the busty Drow with an appraiser's eye, weighing the woman with little more thought than the cuts of meat on cattle or a pig. Her breasts were large, showing that she had strong fat deposits in that area. She stepped forward, pinching various parts of the elves body: thighs, belly, ribs, between her claws, checking her fat content. A flick of her claws shredded the rest of the rags the drow wore to ribbons. She pinched her nipples sharply, gauging the elves reaction, as she ran her smoothed hands over her breasts, squeezing the globes here and there. She hoped for the expected wince and gasp, but her meals had surprised her before. This woman seemed rather lean, despite having larger breasts. It wasn't necessarily uncommon to see that particular body type. All it signaled to Catherine, however, was that she'd need extra care over the fire to keep the meat from becoming too tough. Her guests would certainly see to that though. “Hmm, good marbling...” she muttered as she ran her hands over the tender elven flesh. She noted the black haired creature looking away from her. “You'll do well to look at me, slave.” she said, forcing the creatures face to hers  with a forceful, but gentle push of her fingertips. Forcing the Drow's eyes to hers, she drank in the despair. She never really cared for the stories of how her prey came to her, but their attitudes all told something different. Almost all spoke of betrayal. When you had enough gold to buy loyalty, the reality of the common man's life became quite the amusing triviality. “Your name. Speak it.” she said, tapping a clawtip on the underside of the drow's chin. After the drow responded, she'd purse her lips in approval, tilt her head as to ponder something and then move on to the next captive.<br/><br/>The young woman was led into the estate grounds, unchained. Her guards lead her into the main banquet hall, where Catherine has just finished examining the female drow warrior. Catherine's eyes light up in surprise at the arrival of this “guest”. Clearly, she hadn't expected anyone else for some time yet. Catherine slipped her confusion behind her aristocratic veil of pleasant composure. “Welcome, young Ambrosine.” she said with a warm smile, taking the young woman's hand. “I'm sure your father has explained our arrangement, yes?” she added, not really waiting for a response. “To clarify the terms, you will be working off his debt as a guest in my house for the time being. I plan to make you a guest of honor tonight as well, in light of our new, ah, partnership.” she said, allowing a moment for the woman to respond. “For your first task, I'd like you to take this jug of water and washcloth and wash our friend here, as well as yourself. So, strip down, and take care of that task for me. I can remind you of the details of the arrangement as you get started.”<br/><br/>(My plan is to have Ambrosine help Catherine begin to prepare Solistrae, and herself, by washing the two of them. I understand that wasn't too much to go on exactly, but I didn't want to run over a chance to respond too much.)<br/><br/>(Also, just how old is Ambrosine? I really don't do anything with characters under 18. I assume the term “maiden” is only referring to the fact that she is a virgin, but I wanted to make sure I was reading that correctly.)