Rave's careful aura of mystery only drew more admirers and more requests for photographs and social media connections. Even through the distracting hubbub of the club, she could tell that people were talking about her.<br/><br/>The catgirl meowed pleasantly when Rave took her hand, and eagerly stepped out onto the floor with her. "Then I hope I can be the perfect accompaniment for your melody," she said, her tail brushing up against Rave's leg. Call me Shimii. It's Persian, just like me."<br/><br/>Shimii clearly had something specific in mind for Rave when she approached her - this was no chance encounter on the dance floor. While Rave couldn't tell any more than that from Shimii's body language, her magic was much more definite. As soon as Rave said that she was alone at the club, Shimii had become an enemy, and her hostile intentions involved poison in some way.