Zhi's breath caught at the same time as Lalataru's, though she didn't know it. Her tail went rigid, her expression darkened, and she almost -- but not quite -- vocalized her distress as he nearly killed himself. What was it with the day? First her mettle was tested by the sun, and now by what, fate? The gods surely were having a good time at her expense. Still, at least he was moving and that would have to do. What's more, he headed in the direction she'd hoped he'd go. Perfect.
Taking her time in moving in the same direction, Zhi nonetheless passed him within the Alley itself. There was only one path forward, and she intended to beat him there. She knew he frequented the Arcanists' Guild, had seen as much in the time she'd followed him back and forth. She knew many things about Lolotaru Lalataru, from that which she'd seen, to that which she'd heard, to that which she'd paid for. She'd made him her business, had staked a claim on him in the way of her ilk. And though she was not intimidating, she had resources enough to make life very uncomfortable for anyone who got ideas about her employer's mark. Not that such a thing would discourage those who outstripped her in influence and wealth, but this one was based in enough eccentricity that she didn't think it would become a problem. Not unless there was more to it than she realized -- and that was regrettably not uncommon. Too many employers thought to keep her in the dark, someone who kept herself fed from staying abreast of who was ferrying what dirty little secrets around.
She sighed in relief as she crossed into the shade of the covered alcove that housed the door into the Arcanists' Guild. She sat there, uncaring of the dirt on the floor, and pulled her knees in towards her chest. Unless Lalataru loitered overlong and someone else came along to discourage her from polluting what was essentially the front porch of this particular guild, she should be able to catch him.
She'd dressed for the occasion, having used part of her pre-payment to buy an oversized shirt and half-pants. Worn sandals were on her feet, and her hair was mussed but not too dirty -- of course, what with her own sweat and the humid heat, she was looking a little worse for wear than she'd intended, and smelling just enough of wet fur to likely be counted as potential unconscious aversion, but she was confident. She looked the part of a big-eyed youth, hopeful with just enough tragedy (not too much, that was a quick way for things to get awkward) to invite sympathy. Not too dirty, not too clean. She'd aimed for that sweet spot of potential, the one that got strangers to trust before their instincts had a chance to kick in. And if that didn't work on Lalataru, for whatever reason, she had a backup plan or two.
Make or break in that moment. Her heartbeat sped, and she swallowed down the urge to grin. She wrapped her tail around her feet to keep it (and her butt, dratted instincts) from wagging.
She lived for that moment.
Taking her time in moving in the same direction, Zhi nonetheless passed him within the Alley itself. There was only one path forward, and she intended to beat him there. She knew he frequented the Arcanists' Guild, had seen as much in the time she'd followed him back and forth. She knew many things about Lolotaru Lalataru, from that which she'd seen, to that which she'd heard, to that which she'd paid for. She'd made him her business, had staked a claim on him in the way of her ilk. And though she was not intimidating, she had resources enough to make life very uncomfortable for anyone who got ideas about her employer's mark. Not that such a thing would discourage those who outstripped her in influence and wealth, but this one was based in enough eccentricity that she didn't think it would become a problem. Not unless there was more to it than she realized -- and that was regrettably not uncommon. Too many employers thought to keep her in the dark, someone who kept herself fed from staying abreast of who was ferrying what dirty little secrets around.
She sighed in relief as she crossed into the shade of the covered alcove that housed the door into the Arcanists' Guild. She sat there, uncaring of the dirt on the floor, and pulled her knees in towards her chest. Unless Lalataru loitered overlong and someone else came along to discourage her from polluting what was essentially the front porch of this particular guild, she should be able to catch him.
She'd dressed for the occasion, having used part of her pre-payment to buy an oversized shirt and half-pants. Worn sandals were on her feet, and her hair was mussed but not too dirty -- of course, what with her own sweat and the humid heat, she was looking a little worse for wear than she'd intended, and smelling just enough of wet fur to likely be counted as potential unconscious aversion, but she was confident. She looked the part of a big-eyed youth, hopeful with just enough tragedy (not too much, that was a quick way for things to get awkward) to invite sympathy. Not too dirty, not too clean. She'd aimed for that sweet spot of potential, the one that got strangers to trust before their instincts had a chance to kick in. And if that didn't work on Lalataru, for whatever reason, she had a backup plan or two.
Make or break in that moment. Her heartbeat sped, and she swallowed down the urge to grin. She wrapped her tail around her feet to keep it (and her butt, dratted instincts) from wagging.
She lived for that moment.
