<div class="floatright">(https://t01.deviantart.net/BTtmpGl6TfPHO2edEPgORn_qZtI=/fit-in/700x350/filters:fixed_height(100,100):origin()/pre01/cf55/th/pre/i/2008/140/8/c/star_trek_series_2___14_by_chonastock.jpg)</div><div class="floatright"><strong>Character Name:</strong> Ensign Ithali sh'Rhynek<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Angel's Rest to Mess Hall<br/><strong>Mentioning:</strong> Dp. Att. Kir-Je<br/></div><br/><br/><br/><br/>Ithali walked with measured steps, ever sure and fluid with inhuman grace. “Agreed,” she said simply, “The ambassador does not have to know, since it will not harm them. A security detail with more close combat skills and strictly backup only weapons should suffice nicely.” The door to the mess hall opened as the Andorian female stepped with little sound. “Better an alive ambassador, than a dead one,” she agreed once more, speaking softly but sounding steely and serious.<br/><br/>The Trill male had chuckled at her. He certainly wasn’t a business only type, now was he? Ithali kept a small smirk from tilting her blue lips. “Failure is often an apt learning opportunity,” she offered, turning to look at him, “Perhaps I will be able to teach you a few things about Andorians and their… passions. So I fully intend to see how well you can defend yourself from me.” That sounded more suggestive than she could have possibly intended with her closed off expressions.  But then again her kind was know well for their aggression, despite looking serene and ethereal.<br/><br/>Continuing on the discussion from earlier when she had prodded him a bit, Ithali lifted one hand and observed it thoughtfully. Then her green eyes slid over to him. She put a finger on her bottom lip, as if thoughtful. “I suppose it is all situational,” she gave him a rather sharp smirk, “Though it does beg the question as to how badly you wish to either irritate or impress me, now doesn’t it?”<br/><br/>“And while you may be very apt at speaking,” she looked over the room with her cool water gaze, “I'm much more impressed with actions, rather than words…<em>Anatole</em>.” She gave him a more expressive look after that. One of challenge and amusement and almost a bit of arrogance. His silver tongue was speaking of two things at once, for she was certain he wasn’t just speaking of sparring with her. “A rain check, I believe it is called, should be begged for on my end,<em>Anatole</em>,” she rolled his name on her tongue again, “Certain matters should be seen to before I can indulge myself in playing with you.” Oh, now it was she who was spearing back, to get at him for trying to pull her about with his words. He chose sneak attacks? She chose full open advancement.<br/><br/>“You should have time to ready yourself for me,” now she was certainly trying to egg him on, “Tender Trill might be harmed if not prepared for the strength of an Andorian. Though I do find myself eager to test you.” Sparring and otherwise. Of course she also had her eye on the doctor too, to be perfectly honest. Who would win in a match of Cardassian and Andorian? Of course, the Trill could be a surprise too. And it all depended on time as well. She hardly knew a thing about either adversaries, and a warrior should always be more informed, rather than rush head first into a conquest.<br/><br/>Ooopsie, did she just think conquest? Apologies, old habits die hard.<br/>