<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v622/Jagwaar/Shazadi%201a_zpsql8ohgqw.jpg)</div><hr/><strong>Name:</strong>Shazadi<br/><strong>Race/Culture:</strong>Jinn-Blooded Bedu<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br/><strong>Day/Time:</strong>Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Rashid, Open<br/><hr/><br/>Shazadi opened her mouth to reply to what Rashid said, but for once she was at a momentary loss for words. “Even women sweat. I still smell like the desert,” she finally managed to say, as his finger slipped along the line of her jaw, feeling color rise to heat her cheeks, because this time, there was no need for him to continue to shower her with praise. She was already his for the day. While she knew that all of his compliments had been genuine, this one seemed particularly sincere, uttered with the simple honesty of a true friend. She shifted under its weight, slightly uncomfortable and grateful for the kind words in equal measure. “I’m but a humble priestess,” she replied quietly, “For a Bedu Goddess that holds no sway in this place beyond Her Faithful. I merely am what She has made me and if that pleases you, I am grateful. I thank you for your kindness to me, Rashid.”<br/><br/>Despite his attempt to downplay the seriousness of the situation with the local wizir, Shazadi wasn’t fooled. As the tale unwound, she became even more concerned for her friend, but she did her best not to show it. She gasped outright at the sacrilege of such wanton destruction of a holy relic, but kept silent as Rashid continued his tale, Seeing it all play out in her head as he described the events thanks to the far reaching nature of her Sight. As he turned away, she felt his shame and anger as palpable things, and reached out to scoop up one of Rashid’s hands in her own, lacing her fingers with his to lend him her silent support as he continued telling the story. It gave her comfort as well. Holding his hand served to remind her that he had survived that fateful day as well as the attempts on his life, that he was here with her now, and that this Caliph had not succeeded in enacting his revenge. So far, the Gods were on his side. But the future was always in flux, even to one such as herself, who could glimpse into its shifting sands.<br/><br/>“May that be many years from now,” Shazadi whispered. “I apologize Rashid, for bringing up something that causes you such distress.” Lifting his hand, she brought it to her lips and kissed the beck before holding it against her chest and looking towards him, over her shoulder. “Please forgive me.”<br/>