<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/DcoPfKF.png)</div><hr/><strong>Name:</strong>Ilhan<br/><strong>Race/Culture:</strong>Djaffir<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Slave piers<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>N’ebthe, Zidir, Open<br/><hr/><br/>He had his question, but it slipped away right when Zidir suggested a close inspection. And just as Ilhan reached out to catch his errant thought N'ebthe decided to reply with a slow disrobing. All thinking ceased with his breath, held anxiously in wait as the Nefasi shamaness blessed him with her other set of divine orbs, her elbow and waist catching her fallen slip to deny any further reveal. Then he let go a soft sigh, and could breathe again by the grace of some gentle presence near him. With a slow nod to Zidir, he boldly stepped forward and let his body take charge while his mind scrambled for a single question lost among thousands.<br/><br/>Standing before N'ebthe, Ilhan naturally imposed his size and presence upon her. His cool gray eyes shone dimly through the slits of his mask, and his breath cascaded down onto her bare chest. Ilhan wisely kept his arms behind his back, wisely avoiding any sudden impulse but also broadening his chest and giving him an air of confidence. But while his arms were restrained, his mouth unchained idly formed verse to commemorate the moment.<br/><br/><div align="center"><em>... your breasts speak seven tongues,<br/>and I was made to listen to them all.</em></div><br/>Finally, he was at complete ease, the quick verse leaving him with a giddy smile underneath his mask. And right then he found the words he'd been looking for, and let his eyes crawl up from her bosom back to her eyes. "What can you see beyond these walls," he began, then shaking his head wanting to hear nothing of the market outside. "What can you see between, and beneath our feet?" If she could see through his mask, then Ilhan had to wonder.