<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/02/cc/7d/02cc7dd8e0d76469ac60fd12421d4095.jpg)</div><hr/><strong>N’ebthe:</strong><br/><strong>Race/Culture:</strong>Nefasi<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Storage area, 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>Zidir, Ilhan<br/><hr/><br/>Poor N'ebthe, she was lost on this whole ordeal now. When it came to bargaining she was more used to dealing with trade... Like two chickens and a rooster in exchange for the aid of the spirits in conceiving a child... Not shiny metals in exchange for people. She tried to pay attention and tried as she might to understand just what they were trying to do but it all just went over her head. She didn't like feeling like a child here but this certainly reminded her of those moments long ago where she'd been lost on the conversations of adults.