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The air is crisp this evening in Ul'dah. Â Snowflakes swirl slowly, sliding over the slippery steps of the city making for such a soothing sight. Â The cold wasn't bothering the little Miqo'te who spent most of her time growing up amid the whims of the weather in the various nooks and crevices of Eorzea. Â In fact, she was meditating, allowing herself to become one with the brisk breeze that dances through the stone-cobbled corridors; until of course, a gravely voice broke the silence like a toppling vase past it's breaking point.
"My lady, my employer wishes a word with you; won't you please come with me?"
She opens her right eye slowly. Â Then her left. Â Her first impression of the Elezen was confusing, at best. Â He was tall with dusky flesh and hair with a rich-looking silk suit; clearly custom tailored to his trim figure. Â Even his shoes were polished to perfection. Â His hair, however, looked like some he'd gotten into a scuffle with a small critter who bore a deep and abiding disdain for neatness. Â Tufts of violet-gray hair stuck out every which way and there was a rather large section on the right side of his head that stuck straight out a good three inches. Â A small jagged scar cuts across his right check, making him look most unbalanced. Â Yet his piercing blue eyes managed to enthrall her gaze for a short time as she tried to get a read on this 'gentleman',
"I'm sorry, and you are?"
"My name is Mourechaux. Â My employer wishes a word with you; won't you please come with me?"
Pema pauses and gives him an incredulous look,Â
"Yes, I got that part. Â However, I'm not in the habit of walking off with strange men just because they tell me I should. Â You're going to have to do better than that,"Â
The Elezen remains cool and calm and neatly folds his hands behind his back while quickly making a visual reassessment of the short statured female; whom he was twice the height of. Â He regards her carefully, looking her over slowly before speaking once more,
"You are the Lady Pema Jawantal are you not?" he inquires curiously.
"I am." she replies slowly.
"Then I would ask that you would come with me. Â My employer, the 'benevolent' Zozoje Zoje desires an audience with you. Â Your services are needed."
"Why didn't you say something sooner!" she exclaims loudly, flailing her arms as her tail bristles, "What if someone died because I didn't stick around for this nonsense?!"
Finally the Mourechaux's face contorts into an expression, this one just so happened to be confusion,Â
"Died?" he asks over a long, drawn out moment, clearly processing the word as it is said.
Pema stops her current flailings and matches the Elezen's expression of confusion,
"Then what in the bloody hell are you talking about!?" she exclaims, clearly exasperated.
Not knowing that else to do the Elezen points at the embroidery hoop hanging off her belt in a desperate attempt to explain himself better,
"Your other skills. Â Please, if you'll just come with me, I assure you all will be made clear. Â My employer wishes a wor--"
"Yes! Yes! Â I got it! Â Your employer wishes a word with me!" she throws her hands up, exasperated, then gestures to him to lead the way, "By all means!... And keep your voice down."
"You know... actually, I need to go home and get some things first... I'll just... catch up with you later!" she turns on her toes and starts to head away from the the Elezen quickly.
"Then I shall accompany you," Â Mourechaux catches her arm tightly without missing a beat and holds onto the little Miqo'te tightly.
Pema sighs heavily and gives up finally, slouching her shoulders as her ears droop against her head,
"Ugh... I'm going to have to move my camp again..." she groans as the Elezen keeps a tight rein on her tiny form.Â
((To be Continued))
 Time is nothing, Timing is Everything.
