<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/>Ilhan's fire began to cool, and his hand on N'ebthe slowly fell away as he retreated behind his mask and into his own thoughts. With a contemplative fist touching his chin he very quickly ran through line after line, possibility after possibility, and calculated all risks between them both. His blood ran cold, but unexpectedly his heart was beating fast. This unexpected dealing had set him on fire, and despite its spontaneity and scale he supposed he needed this to help clear his mind and leave behind what the Nefasi had seen weighing down his spirit.<br/><br/>With a steady breath, he slowed his tempo almost to a standstill before again taking hold of his mask and pulling it off. His blush, his anger, and his exhilaration had passed, leaving just a stoic, handsome face. Should he agree to the added stipulation, Ilhan would take on substantial risk should anything happen to N'ebthe under his care. However, he had no interest in owning her as his slave. Ilhan turned and looked over his shoulder at the dark-skinned elven beauty wondering what she thought, but could tell they'd left her behind just now with their negotiations.<br/><br/>"Then let us meet again later, perhaps tomorrow evening. By then our affairs should be settled and we may discuss and finalize this contract. Where shall I find you then?" he asked, figuring this would be enough time for the both of them to ready assets as well as for N'ebthe to fully understand what they had settled upon.