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Fyra
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Eleforian Elite Guard
Claws crouched in statuesque stillness for the moment, listening to Red. With a more clear look at her features, she found the woman's face sightly disturbing. So pale, as if she walked with no blood in her own veins, and yet the rest of her was as red as the blood flowing through others. Red hair, red eyes... Redred. Red. But her ears were tilted forward, listening as the woman spoke. The only movement from the feline was the smallest tip of her tail. Her stillness was ruined by her ears flicking away her confusion. First the woman wanted to defile temples. Now she wanted to set up a healing practice? For coin... that would line her own pockets. While that sounded like a much better plan than the original, it was giving Claws a look at the woman's mental state, and she was less impressed.

"Mission of mercy, hm?" She shifted her weight upon her paws, tail twitching a little more now. "While your second plan seems more lucrative, and safer than the first, I doubt that the two line up very well." She purred softly, a sound of amusement. "Are you sure you know what you're doing, Red? Because you seem a mite confused as to how to go about starting up your business."

Warily, she watched the orc, lest he decide to attack simply for the implied insult to his mistress. But so far, he just stood like a mute, glowering guard. A little like the eunuchs that were used to protect noble's harems in the south. But at least those were truly muted, their tongues cut out or their vocal chords ruined... and most often they were gelded, leaving them much easier to handle as well. Nothing like this orc. It might do to get her own sort of guard like that. She couldn't always beat brawn with wit. Life didn't keep opportunities that way.

She paused though, eyes narrowing. "You say you'll heal anyone with enough coin? Would you heal some for no charge, so long as I find wealthy ones to make up the difference?" Her ears tilted differently, obviously calculating.
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So Raglar Commands · City Randatria


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