<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/>“Isn’t that the very definition of poetry?” Shazadi asked, thinking of the picture Rashid painted; the way the winds sang out in the open desert, how they could sigh through the fronds of the palms at an oasis and rustle the fabric of a tent. Those sounds touched her soul, the same way his beautiful words served to caress what remained of her vanity and ego. Many men and not a few women sought to take her to bed for her beauty alone; but Rashid appreciated more than her beauty, and valued more than just the skill Tamarni had gifted her with. On the rare occasions they were in each other’s company, she could simply be herself, and that was worth far more than the coin that now lined her purse.<br/><br/>“I<em>see</em>,” Shaza purred with a lazy grin as he began to reveal what he had in mind for the way, all whispered in husky, whiskey tones in her ear as they sat huddled together, beard tickling her skin. “Perhaps it will be<em>you</em>begging instead, old friend,” she teased, arching one carefully manicured eyebrow. “Or have you forgotten both my skills and stamina?”<br/><br/>One quick brush of his cheek against hers was all they could dare in public before he pulled away to urge her to fortify herself with another cup of coffee. Smiling, she raised a hand to call over the capuchin, passing over her empty cup and ordering another before her scurried away. Turning back to Rashid, watching him lounge on the cushions like a lion observing a gazelle. “You should at least have a few more dates, my friend,” she told him, just as Jamal returned with her coffee and jumped away with another of her coins. “After all, you’re going to need your strength.” She eyed him with a knowing expression as she sipped her drink. “I suppose now, we’ll be needing a private bath.”  Reaching for a date, she popped it into her mouth and moved closer to Rashid, using him as a pillow as much as the cushions behind them both.<br/><br/>“I didn’t answer your earlier question. My apologies,” she began. “The Sheikah is not my enemy, nor is her wizir. Are they yours? If Tamarni hadn’t wanted me to go there, I would never have received Fayruz’s summons. The Oasis of dreams is very fertile land with great potential, and the Sheikah has ambitious plans for her people. Plans that some do not care for. The wizir seeks to protect Fayruz, as there have been attempts on her life for her ideas. It would change their way of life. The wizir was terse, but I made no enemies, I assure you.”<br/>