<div class="floatleft">(http://img2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20130219153348/l5r/images/4/46/Isawa_Hibana.jpg)</div><br/><br/>This sounded much like a job.  Some samurai might need to be coaxed into doing something for money, have the action appeal to their sense of honor or duty.  Hotaru had no such compulsion in her body for such things.  While the blood of an ancient line did run through her veins, that blood had been tempered by the realities of life.  Food required money, money required work and therefore she would have to work for her survival.  A simple nod was given in her moment of sobriety, though this was followed by a belch that reeked of aged alcohol.  Perhaps there had been a time when the woman might have been a proper shugenja or a proper anything really, but for now she was simply another vagabond born with a  gift few could claim.<br/><br/>A fist came down on the table to startle a passing server.  “Food!  Now!  And sake and tea.”  The voice was certainly a shout that made even Hotaru wince from the volume.  Still, she had nodded and now turned her gaze down toward the envelope.  “We’ll see what the spirits tonight look like for my spirit in the morning.”<br/>