Catalina was hardly a figure most would consider imposing.  Slender and graceful, the hard life she had chosen did not mar her physical presentation.  Legs that would better suit a dancer moved elegantly while encased in the harsh leather of a traveler.  High boots rolled down at the top pressed quietly to the boards below as her passing caused not so much as a stir.  Many men would stomp or create such a noise when moving so that they might come across with intimidation; Catalina knew that would not work.  Best to play her strengths of which grace was one she held in spades.  Those traveler pants pressed to her thighs and hips with a lover’s guilt.  There was little to their width and strength the pants did not immediately pass onto the casual observer.  A wide belt pressed to her flat stomach, the only noise she had made thus far originating from the metal rings and buckles held there.  Like music the metal cascaded down to the ears of the listener.<br/><br/>At her belt was the first sign that this demure figure might mean trouble.  A curved blade slipped out from her hip, worn low enough to indicate she could draw quickly.  Attached to the other side was the polished surface of a pistol.  Those weapons lead upward to the white blouse she wore across her top, threads tied tightly to keep her breasts in check.  Darkened flesh peaked out from beneath that small V and those mounds promised a soft place for a sailor’s head.  Black ringlets of hair fell down to that level then.  Each strand shined as if cut from a pearl while flowing like the wind around her figure.  A delicate neck lifted the eye upward to a face framed from soft angles and delicate curves.  Rounded lips pressed together in a serious line while her long lashes lifted to cast her gaze around.  Now her most stunning features was found.  Eyes that could light the night shone out clearly, turning to each man with disappointment every time.  The eyes were blue and hazel and green at the same time.  They shifted colors with the light, growing more stark and mesmerizing with each turn of her head.  Large and filled with expression, a man would likely think he held her soul by looking deep enough.<br/><br/>While certainly she was looking for a man here, Catalina was not searching for merely any man.  Her contact had promised to meet her at this location.  With a war waging around them business was good for those willing to take a risk.  She had taken and walked away from such ventures before, often with enough gold to spare.  That was enough to bring her back to her homeland and see the war torn countryside that had claimed so many of her relatives.  Her heart did not ache for them though, nor did her soul quake at the memories of a lost childhood.  The sea had made her cold and the life of a pirate colder still.  Catalina had no time to spend shedding tears over spilled blood.<br/>