<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>Zidir's Establishment<br/><strong>Day/Time:</strong>Yaus al-Ittrou (Day of the River), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Zidir, Open<br/><hr/><br/>N’ebthe was no fool – she knew she’d lucked out when it came to eventually ending up in Zidir’s ranks – but she likewise knew that for as good as the man was too his slaves he was a business man in every sense of the word. He wasn’t looking to make a<strong>good deal</strong>, he wanted to make out like a thief that had convinced his victim he was freely relieving them of an unneeded problem. Already she liked Ilhan, he was every bit as charming as Zidir made himself out to be but without that lingering scent of greed hanging upon his spirit. Already she knew that Ilhan would do great things in his life time while Zidir would trade great things. The ambitions of men were something to either stand behind or get out of the way of in these cases. So then why was she approaching Zidir as she was now?<br/><br/><i>”What are your plans for Ilhan..?”</i>The woman asked bluntly as she came before him in lush silks much more modest and complimentary on her curved form than the lengths of cloth he’d displayed her in amongst the slave piers. White, both one of the cheaper of silks while accenting her dark complexion in ways most rarely thought too, hugged over her previously barred breasts but left her midriff exposed for her would be buyer to be reminded of its sleek, mocha toned contours.<br/><br/><i>”The spirits are wary..”</i>And she eyed him warily all the same, even if glazed sheen of her amethyst hues remained on some distant item in some unseen place behind him.<br/><br/><br/>Despite her offsetting and completely standoffish approach, the woman sported a tray of freshly brewed tea of her own personal mixture she was becoming somewhat famous for within his home – after all it created quite the relaxing and euphoric effect for its drinkers while revitalizing them all the same. She’d brought four cups along with it – one for Zidir, one for Ilhan when he arrived, one for herself and even one for the furred one at his side. She set the tray down near and began pouring both a share.<br/><br/><i>”It is not in my nature to be used as a tool for the harm of others.”</i>She offered him his cup and his companion hers. Did she think he meant the man harm? Will, some would think creating a bad deal was another was a show of ill will, right?<br/><br/>