"Really... I-I'm nothing next to Mama Ami," she stutters, duty and double entendre clashing in Senna's mind.  She studies her crossbow, looking up just in time to see Fallon's graceful, steel-clad form.  For a long time, she studies that armor she wrought, shaped to fit the strong, toned body beneath.  To see her steel on that body is almost like having her own hands on the full elf's bare skin in the artisan's eyes.  The last time she had the chance, she let her professionalism prevail, yet the opportunity has been running through her mind ever since.  Already, one part of her regrets her abrupt offer while the other rejoices.<br/><br/>"I... yes, a... 'review.'  Excellent idea."  She looks around, even peeking inside the cart, her doubts looking for an out only to get beaten back down.  "Wh-wherever you're most..." she gulps, "comfortable."<em>Gah!  Why is she getting to me like this?</em>