Timestamp: Dyo 32 '82 Zidan strolled through the market in a glum mood. Within the two hours from when he entered the area; his wallet was picked, his food was nabbed from his hand, grossed out by a multitude of the wares being sold, and feeling he was being watched. "What more can get worse..." He moaned to himself. "The last things that can be stolen are my necklaces, my fur, my book, and my dignity..." He walked onwards through the busy street, walking passed a few more stalls with odd bobbles. One stall made him silently vomit in his mouth, forcing him to swallow yesterdays meal. He had very little money left, the coins he hid in his pouch just in case. He had just enough to buy a single meal to make up for the one that was taken from his own claws.
<table width="90%" cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;"> <font face=verdana color=gold style="font-size:15pt; font-family: serif; line-height:6pt; font-weight: strong;"> p h e t ' k n i s . m o i</font></td></tr> <tr><td> <font face=verdana style="font-size:10pt;">Phet's eyes were open wide as they drank in the fast-paced Black Market streets. Life where she was from was hardly anything similar to this; in fact, the fey lived in relative solitude and her encounters with the outside world was limited to the occasional stumble-upon guest of the Manik Swamplands. Despite this stark contrast, the thill walked with notable confidence, unbothered by the vast number of 'dragons flanking her, unintimidated by the bright colours and coarse-looking vendors. Her small sable body was swathed in a swooping pashmina of ivory and cream. The material was so lengthy it covered the fine details of her breasts and further down. Nudity was no problem in pendragon society but Phet'knis felt she had other things to hide than her mere flesh. At her back was something like a wicker basket (fashioned of dry reeds, and definitely not Earth's wicker!) and it was large, startlingly so for such a tiny thill. She seemed unimpeded. And although most of her merchandise could be contained in the well-sized basket one thing, a statue, she held in one arm. It was a cessi, stripped of skin, poised in an elegant yet awkward strut, screwed to a piece of wood. The sight was absolutely ghastly. Nearby an extremely tall arden strod, clad in saintly white but baring an utterly withered face, and his image she could only mentally shudder at. So entranced in his image was she that she failed to notice Zidan as he, too, eyed the market. She knocked into him, his shoulder precisely, and ended up dropping the cessi statue right before him. </td></tr></table>
Zidan was pecking through the remnants of his coins, aimlessly counting them every now and then. Right as he was about to place them in his pouch for safe keeping, his shoulder suddenly jerked as he was bumped into, dropping his coins on the ground. "S-sorry!" He apologized to the one that bumped into him as a reaction. He heard something heavier drop to the ground also, so he automatically assumed he caused the other individual to drop something of greater worth. He bent down to to the ground so he could reach for his coins, as well as pick up the other object, still without looking at the one he bumped into. After picking up about five coins, his eyes finally landed on the gruesome statue. Reminded of the other things he saw on the market, he gaged without a sound. He immediately stood upright and doubled back, now looking at the Feydragon that he bumped into. "Erm... sorry!" He apologized again. "I, uh, was distracted." He eyed over the thill quickly and his eyes began to then dare another peek at the cessi statue. His mind quickly ran over the possible things he could do. He could just quickly pick up his money and get out of the stomach wrenching area, but that would be rude. He took a deep breath and picked up the statue with a single arm and the rest of his coins with the other. "Here you go." He said politely. ((OOC: Is the last paragraph referring to Zidan? Just wondering!))
<table width="90%" cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;"> <font face=verdana color=gold style="font-size:15pt; font-family: serif; line-height:6pt; font-weight: strong;"> p h e t ' k n i s . m o i</font></td></tr> <tr><td> <font face=verdana style="font-size:10pt;">OOC: Naw, Phet' was just looking at some weird-looking guy across the street. (; I don't think Zid's withered, teehee. Phet'knis could not help but look a little jarred from the bump. It wasn't that Zidan was an utterly frightening fella' to run into, it was just that she'd been so intent on the other arden across the street that knocking into something just caught her completely off-guard. <font color=gold>"Ahh! Fsssss..."</font> A rattle of hisses and jumbled words rolled off her blue tongue. It was horrific! Her masterpiece, an artwork of meat, had fallen on the ground and she could only worry now what horror the distance had caused. The wiring inside might've been loosened, bits of dirt could've seeped in between the layers of crimson, or worse..! But try as she might to bend down and retrieve her precious the arden she bumped into kept getting in her way. He appeared so driven in his mission to pick up his belongings and her's as well that, after a couple of tries, she merely leaned back on one foot and let him be. And although his gag was a sound she was oblivious to she could tell he wasn't the most comfortable touching the fleshed-out cessi. His movements said it well enough. <font color=gold>"S'a wonder how anybody makes it out alive from t'is place, mmm?"</font> jested the fey with her arms extended, her touch reaching out awaiting the return of the sweet cessi. Zidan was prompt and held the statue out with an expression the thill could only smirk at. She took her work and held it tight to her chest. After a brief examination of it, Phet'knis returned her attention to the arden, giving him a look-down that was accompanied by a devious grin. <font color=gold>"Shumc iyo,"</font> she thanked him in Ramathian to show her honesty, <font color=gold>"Yer not from 'ere, are you?"</font> Those gleaming gems of gold held his stare. Beneath them her mental gears churned with all sorts of thoughts... </td></tr></table>
"E-Eea'ju Fulkenu" He replied to the Fey's thanks in his own language. He couldn't help but feel slightly unwanted from the hiss that seemed to be directed at him from the small Fey. "Me (Trying to say 'no' in Yki. Too confusing!), I am far from my homeland." the stare from the small Fey made feel at unease, the stare seemed to pierce through his flesh. Her clutching to her statue is flesh filled him with a form of dread. He hoped dearly that she wasn't the sort of dark dealer that made Pendragons pay her with their thumbs. It was a sick and fearful thought he had had since first entering this bizarre market. Zidan put his hand in his pouch, droppping and counting the small coins that fell to the bottom. ~11, 12, 13... 13?! I had 17 before! I'm missing four! That hardly enough to buy me a decent meal here~ He panicked in his thoughts, while at the same time hid them from the Fey's gaze. OOC: Nah, I don't think Zidan is at an age to become all wrinkly. Also; It's about time you posted, I was wondering when you were. But nevermind, you probably had better things to do and could only log in to check mail.
<table width="90%" cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;"> <font face=verdana color=gold style="font-size:15pt; font-family: serif; line-height:6pt; font-weight: strong;"> p h e t ' k n i s . m o i</font></td></tr> <tr><td> <font face=verdana style="font-size:10pt;">OOC: D'aw, sorry. I was absent for the week, writing a big essay. I should still be absent seeing as I have an exam today, but eh! I needa break. The feydragon's ears canted in the direction of the yki's voice as it reeled out words in a dialect she only scarcely knew. Even if she didn't understand the exact meanings of his speech, she could gather easily enough where he was going. The arden definitely had his manners, and from that knowledge alone, she could read him well enough. But it wasn't as if she was exacting out his very thoughts. She simply knew he'd said thank you! Her golden-eyed stare was very deceitful. <font color=gold>"Then are you in mucha rush, sir?"</font> And so began the very inklings of her offer; her tone gave her intentions away, her crooked grin and confident air. For someone utterly new to the urban world, Phet'knis seemed to possess a great deal of self-assurance. It was going to get her in trouble but for now she floated, aloft on her own mischief. </td></tr></table>
"Um... Me. I'm not in any rush." He replied with an unsure tone. He pondered for a slight conversation as to where the conversation was to go, but ended with him thinking that, since the Fey was so small, and what she carried on her seemed larger, maybe she was going to ask for assistance. "I-If you're asking me for assistance, I guess I can help." He offered. He believed it would only be right to help, seeing as he may have damaged her rather gross statue and may need to work off a dept. He had lots of time to spare because of his profession. ~Maybe a little work will help me with my writer's block?~ He thought to himself. Most of his writing had gotten rather bland and uneventful, and would easily make the reader put down his book. OOC: We all need a break. I need a break from my spring break...
<table width="90%" cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;"> <font face=verdana color=gold style="font-size:15pt; font-family: serif; line-height:6pt; font-weight: strong;"> p h e t ' k n i s . m o i</font></td></tr> <tr><td> <font face=verdana style="font-size:10pt;">OOC: Essay down! Yesss. True, the fey was slight in figure, and true, her possessions were not modest in size. But she'd managed this far, hadn't she? Still, when Zidan opted to give her a helping hand, her lips peeled back to reveal a sharp-toothed smile. With a flick of her ocean-blue tongue, she gave him an affirmative nod and then extended her forepaw out to indicate a shake was in order. <font color=gold>"Good at reading minds, are we, eh? Yes, I would enjoy a lil 'elp, if you kin spare it. M'name's Phet'knis, and you're..?"</font> Behind her her tail swung it's dark little flame, the fire sparking up occasionally with a pleasure only Phet'knis knew the origins of. Her enthusiasm seemed a bit extraordinary. Maybe Phet'knis was unaccustomed to having company around... Around them the market bustled hurriedly. Pretty soon it would get busy and the two of them would find themselves washed away in a sea of people. <font color=gold>"'ow bout I treat you to lunch, in exchange for the help?"</font> </td></tr></table>
When Phet'knis extended her to be shaken, Zidan hesitated slightly, but still obliged the shake. He too extended his has and grasped hers firmly. "My name is Zidan, and no, uh.., I'm no mind reader." He manages to sneak a coy smile through his lips to show some of his jagged, pearly whites. At the word 'lunch' his left ear made a twitch. As he no longer had enough money to purchase a meal and rations for his trips, he needed desperately to make some money to make up the slack. "Yes, I would like some lunch." He extended his other hand and softened his grip on the other, as he expected to carry one of her belongings. Mentally, he dreaded that she would hand him the skinned beast to carry and hoped to be handed the basket from her back. Behind his back, the end of his tail coiled one small loop in anticipation at what he would be given to him be the bag. His blue-ish orange tail-flame licked his fur painlessly. OOC: Rock Band bought! Yesss. Suck terribly at guitar! Noooo.
<table width="90%" cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;"> <font face=verdana color=gold style="font-size:15pt; font-family: serif; line-height:6pt; font-weight: strong;"> p h e t ' k n i s . m o i</font></td></tr> <tr><td> <font face=verdana style="font-size:10pt;">OOC: See, that's ironic. While you can play for a band, you can simultaneously suck as guitar for Rock Band. ;P There was certainly no way in Nothing that Phet'knis would allow the stranger to take hold of her treasured statue. He appeared trustworthy, and willing to please, but her wariness of the outer world was not going to relent simply because of this ard's good looks. Funny-looking fellow he was, the prints of myth seemingly painted on his body. Heavens know what his parents thought when they bore him. <font color=gold>"Zidan."</font> The name she whisked around in her mouth, feeling with her tongue, clicking it 'tween her teeth. <font color=gold>"Sssidan. My name's Phet'knis... let's say we 'ave lunch first. Void knows only 'ow hungry I'm feelin'. Did you see anything of interest 'round here along ya way in?"</font> The handshake softened, and her forepaws fell to her sides. Despite Zidan's expectations nothing was given to him. He would find nothing to fill his touch, no flesh-stripped statue, no other contort figure. Phet'knis had released his hand and put nothing in place of her's. Instead she carried on walking with the expectation that he would follow suit. </td></tr></table>
When Phet'knis did not hand him anything, Zidan felt slightly relieved, and even more relieved to have lunch full instead of working on an empty stomach. He would have been at most discomfort if she was to actually hand him the statue, but the wonder as to what was in the basket seemed a little more uncomfortable. He could not imagine what his reaction would be if he accidentally were to peek into it. "Well, uh... The things I've seen around here are a bit to expensive for me at the moment. I guess you could choose a place. I'm not picky." He admitted casually with a small shake of his head. When Phet'knis began to walk, he followed close behind her. "I really just came into town a while ago." As they walked, Zidan began to wonder what work he would be put too. It was a mystery to him at the current moment, but more importantly, what would be for lunch.
<table width="90%" cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;"> <font face=verdana color=gold style="font-size:15pt; font-family: serif; line-height:6pt; font-weight: strong;"> p h e t ' k n i s . m o i</font></td></tr> <tr><td> <font face=verdana style="font-size:10pt;"> She clicked her teeth together when he replied back his nonchalance concerning her choice of eatery. He might regret that decision, in case she took the two of them to ficalt-head diner, she thought. Chortling quietly to herself, Phet'knis decided better than to take the newcomer into a curiously cultured restaurant. He said he had only been here for a little while, afterall. She led the two of them around a corner, taking them both away from the more cluttered streets to a moderately quieter area of town. It was by no means suburban, it simply lacked the plethora of shady booths and shoppes. Small, gentler looking eateries presented themselves, though some seemed cast in eternal shrouds of darkness, looking foreboding... almost like they were merely masquerading as a place to dine. <font color=gold>"Well, teh. I do not know mucha th'city either, truthfully. Ah've avoided coming to the Black Market for quite some time. Not quite yor city-dwella."</font> she said with a peer behind her just to ensure herself he was still with her. <font color=gold>"This one okay?"</font> She'd stalled in front of one of the shadier ones. The windows were crusted, the curtains bordering it sun-faded and drawn mid-way. The sign seemed more or less inviting though! The Quivering Quill was painted boldly across the top of the store in loopy cursive. If only that one "l" from the word "Quill" wasn't lopsided and threatening to fall... Phet'knis, on the other hand, seemed positively ignorant about the store's menacing front. </td></tr></table>
Zidan followed Phet'knis for some time, weaving their way around groups. After a few twists and turns, Zidan was led to a quieter area with a lighter aura to them. Since he entered the town from the, possibly, worst side of town, he did not have the chance to wander over here. He was silently glad that he followed her. When Phet'knis stopped in from of a rather curious eatery, one that seemed to have stood the test of ages, he could not help but to let his mind wander as to what he may be served. But to not discourage the thill, it would be best to agree on it. "I guess we can eat here." He said solemnly, staring at the dark front. The name of the building slightly peeked his interest. Judging from it, it seemed that the one who named it was interested in writing, much like him. However, seeing as the place was old and looked to be the point of crumbling, it looked like the stereotypical hangout of thugs. He quickly threw aside that thought. ~Of course there would not be a huge gang just waiting to kill the first person to enter. That's just silly!~ He felt more secure when he saw an arden walk into the old building and heard nothing. Just a large, burly Pendragon that looked like he needed a drink. It was a relief that the place was at least still in use.
<table width="90%" cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;"> <font face=verdana color=gold style="font-size:15pt; font-family: serif; line-height:6pt; font-weight: strong;"> p h e t ' k n i s . m o i</font></td></tr> <tr><td> <font face=verdana style="font-size:10pt;">OOC: Feel free to add anything you'd like to the restaurant as in characters and such. I'm not working on anything strict. (; Watching the sizable arden enter the restaurant seemed a little off-putting to Phet'knis but her expression read nothing. She was the one who'd lead the two of them to this restaurant. There was no turning back now. Thus, after her partner's confirmation, the feydragon went on and boldly placed one forepaw on the store's front door, pushed it, and strode right on in. Inside the restaurant was no better. It was a small diner exceeding no more than a tight six square metres. There were five tables to have oneself seated at and a bar at the back of the restaurant, beside which was a door shielded by a wooden bead curtain. Along the left side of the one-room eatery was but a third door, this one leading to a staircase that led itself down to the washrooms. On the walls, painted a pale mud-brown were paintings, paltry remakes old Ramathian classics that had become sun-faded. All the tables had sturdy chairs, though, and they were clean although missing both utensils and patrons... save for one quiet pendragon thill sitting at the very back. Oddly enough, she was dressed in distinctly clean and school proper attire. She only glanced up briefly when the two of them entered then went back to her meal. Phet'knis stayed back near the door, though. She was clinging to a certain uncertainty as to enter and seat herself, or await further instruction. Just as she was beginning to take her first hesitant step forward out strode an immense eight foot male takula from behind the beaded curtain. The arden was a startling scarlet colour, and bore on his body prim and proper churchly attire. When he caught sight of the two customers, he paused in midstep, just as Phet had done, and simply looked upon the two with alarm. Then a liquid smile spilled over his lips and he opened his cigar-clamping mouth to speak. <font color=white>"We'll be with you in just one second."</font> The brute than turned his head and hollared incoherently a name Phet'knis did not catch. By now though her mind was elsewhere. She sure as hell wanted out.</td></tr></table>
When Zidan had entered the building with his new acquaintance, he took a small moment to absorb his surroundings. There was really one other patron in the bar and the arden that had entered a few moments earlier was nowhere in sight, possibly in a back room. He felt somewhat cramped in the small diner, as the space was very limiting to his size. When the large Takula arden strolled in from behind a beaded curtain. "We'll be with you in just one second." The Takula said before being called back by another arden in the room hidden by beads, presumably the one that entered before. Zidan didn't listen too hard as to what was shouted at the massive Arden, but swore that the mentioned name was his, if not, it was best not to say it himself. Zidan turned his head to his right and noticed a painting on the wall. It quickly caught his eye as it was a familiar sight to him. It was a faded painting of a sunset in his homeland, a classic originally painted by a fellow tribesman, whose name he forgotten, but knew the picture quite well. "Now this is a sight one does not see often." He mused to himself. "I think I know the artist but can't get his name." OOC: I can't really get creative at the moment. Listening to some droning classic rock. It's too hard to be original while listening to Black Hole Sun by Soundgarden.
<table width="90%" cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;"> <font face=verdana color=gold style="font-size:15pt; font-family: serif; line-height:6pt; font-weight: strong;"> p h e t ' k n i s . m o i</font></td></tr> <tr><td> <font face=verdana style="font-size:12px; line-height:16px;">OOC: Sorry for the forever wait, I've been rather busy! I missed this thread. Indeed, something had been shouted to the arden that'd made his way in prior to the two of them, for shortly after the takula male had made his announcement that same pendragon strode out clad in the same wear as before. His expression suggested that he wasn't too pleased on being bothered, but his comrade takula bore a sinister smile that somehow reassured Phet'knis that all was going to be alright. He had a head full of messy quills, ones that he'd tied back with a red handkerchief. Maybe he was the restaurant's owner? The grizzly arden approached the two of them, Zidan and Phet'knis, after bickering quietly with the sloppy-smiling takula. Meanwhile, Phet had turned her attention to Zidan and his homeland painting. The 'classic' was not one she recognized but, still, there was familiarity in the style and mood. <font color=gold>"Where ar'you from?"</font> Behind her slender body her sunflower-yellow mottled wings had stretched out to their full size, gaining height overtop her form during their attempt to work out their muscular kinks. Normally she kept the duo much smaller, slighter, through a spell. But seeing as they, Zidan and herself, seemed to be apart of a tough crowd she figured she might as well hope to intimidate. The arden cleared his throat. <font color=white>"Is it jes' the two of you?"</font> he inquired with a fish-hook brow and a threadbare quirk of his lips. He was forcing a smile for sake of manner but, hell, on his rugged face it barely passed as anything more than crude. Behind him the takula eye-balled the two customers and then, abruptly, turned on one heel and made like speed to the back-door. His spaded tail flicked with such enthusiasm that Phet'knis felt that she might be sick. She disliked the takula. <font color=gold>"Yeah, jus' us two. Unless, Zidan, you expecting companeh?"</font> </td></tr></table>
Zidan's gaze was fixed on the painting, which reminded him of the land he left to pursue larger goals. "I'm, uh, from the badlands in Dhruv. Very cold place. Looks like this." He said whilst gesturing towards the painting. "It's very easy to see the reason why I left." A muffled cough came from behind them as Zidan turned to see the burly arden. "Is it jes' the two of you" He said with a very crude smile that slightly creeped Zidan out. "Uh, yes. I'm not expecting anybody." He answered. At his answer, the takula behind him turned on his heel and sped out the back. It seemed as though they were plotting something suspicious, like they really were the thugs that Zidan had worried about from when he first entered the market. At this moment, he began hoping he wouldn't get caught up in any trouble they may cause.
<table width="90%" cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;"> <font face=verdana color=gold style="font-size:15pt; font-family: serif; line-height:6pt; font-weight: strong;"> p h e t ' k n i s . m o i</font></td></tr> <tr><td> <font face=verdana style="font-size:12px; line-height:16px;"> The arden watched as his accomplice made his way to the back of the restaurant, his eyes fixating on the takula with what Phet'knis thought was distaste. She could only hope so; the takula folk around her 'neighbourhood' were cold creatures, savages that barely heard anything another 'dragon would say. It was beyond her how they were in any way connected to the pendragon community! The murderous beasts stole from her traps and flooded the already dubiously afloat land in the swamplands. To be simple, Phet'knis wanted to have little to do with them. <font color=white>"Well then, why don't you two have a seat over.... here."</font> He gestured to the a table that was one away from the murky storefront window. It was not unlike the rest of the tables around the store, so the feydragon didn't fret over the suggestion and immediately walked over to the spot after the arden was finished talking. She wasn't big on being tucked away in a corner, nor being the poster girl for the shop. Once Zidan had seated himself, assuming he would do so, the arden returned to the couple with... sheets of paper. The menus, of course, but they were not as decorous as most places. All the menu items were those from takula culture including a variety of daneyrian dishes, 'humping harok delight', and rheyant ribs. Nearly all of their meals were loaded heavily with meat, and some of them had utterly ambiguous names that left the reader wondering. Phet'knis concealed all expressions of disgust. It wasn't as if the meals were unappetizing -- she was a huge meat eater! Simply the idea of being fed takula kibble was unappealing. Her gaze rose from the menu to Zidan. <font color=gold>"Dhruv is a far ways away from this place, vjeamp. I'd be tired of travellin' if I was you though the Black Mah'ket is hardly a place to seddle down in, heh-heh. Did you come here from Dhruv to sell of them magic stones?"</font> <font color=white>"Eh, drinks?"</font> The arden had returned and most abruptly. He'd nearly cut into Phet's voice with his offer which really had to make a dragon wonder. As he spoke more takula arden walked in. All of them had spiny manes similar to that of the takula server: large, threatening, and prickly slicks of 'hair' that adorned the tops of their head. Some of them even had short, menacing quills lining their chins, their jaws. What lovely guys. </td></tr></table>
Zidan had the feeling that someone was staring hard in the direction of Phet'knis and he. It slightly disturbed him silently, as he tend to get a lot of looks because of his marking on his face, which were bestowed upon him by his patron deity. He mentally shuddered in paranoia. The arden spoke out in his burly voice, "Well then, why don't you two have a seat over... here." He made the gesture to a window seat over in a corner. As soon as he noticed Phet'knis make her way to the table, he promptly followed and seated himself across from her. The server soon came back with single sheets of paper for menus, quite poor compared to the places he often frequented with friends from home. He quickly went over the short list of foods, much with names that left little to the imagination, as they lacked descriptions. He thought he should just go for a stake with water. Phet'knis started a conversation, quickly to be disturbed by the server, very rude, and dwindling what little opinion he already had of the place. "Uh, yes, just water." He told the Takula and then turned his attention to Phet'knis. "Yeah. I was born there, but left to expand in my profession. I play instruments, but I'm trying to write a novel of my own. Some idea I had when I was younger. I'm not here to sell wares or anything, just something interesting to write about." He admitted. It was kind of sad for him. He really had not written much in his blank book since he had set out, mostly keeping things in his head. "I don't think anyone would instantly grab it off a shelf at all. It's just some story about a young Yki like myself that gets caught up in a huge political problem, like a war between races, his own and some other. Pretty bad if you ask me, but I'll stick with it for the time being..." His eyes strayed a little towards the door, as he now regretted agreeing on this place to eat. He just noticed that more Takula were entering through the door, now his fear that this place was a gang hideout was almost coming true, as they all looked as such types. Two huge Takula sat in the table next to him, giving him a sense of insecurity as they looked as if they could easily overtake him and crush him like a small bug.
<table width="90%" cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;"> <font face=verdana color=gold style="font-size:15pt; font-family: serif; line-height:6pt; font-weight: strong;"> p h e t ' k n i s . m o i</font></td></tr> <tr><td> <font face=verdana style="font-size:12px; line-height:16px;"> His markings were unique, yeah. She's noticed them upon first meeting the guy, as would seem obvious for they stood out blatantly against his alabaster fur, and had momentarily questioned their origins. The locations all seemed a little bizarre to be placing tattoos, she thought, but what did she know? She was only an outsider to the busy world... Really, she half expected to see more yki-type folk wandering around Bhim adorned with similarly striking markings in similarly questionable places. There weren't many Yki to begin with, so she had a bit of trouble deciding whether or not Zidan was unique or ordinary. She later decided on 'unique'. <font color=gold>"'ave you blomisua tea?"</font> The arden's expression suggested that the thill's inquiry was... well, extraordinary. Before he could reply Phet'knis just ordered a water and watched with cinched lips the male's back as he walked back into the prep area. As for Zid, she didn't notice his despair and paranoia. Rather, as he spoke, she thought Zidan to be a pretty solid guy. Maybe prone to trembling, but still able to stand strong against the winds. His words were upfront, clear, and well-thought. <font color=gold>"A book, eh? I 'ope you don't include me."</font> A coltish smile appeared on her maw. <font color=gold>"You ought to write much about th' Dhruv badlands. I've neva' gone there, am hardly 'quipped for it, but am always curious. After all, what is one to make of such snow and ice? Your main chara'ter, does he start off there like you 'ave?"</font> Beneath the table the thill's legs folded, around a chair's leg her tail was wrapped, and her wings rested neatly behind her. Her hair she would occasionally touch back into place and her horns, well, they made themselves sure not to stab anybody. All of said things, save for her horns, momentarily tensed up in their own way when the next pod of takula entered. Aw, yuck. </td></tr></table>
