Clove immediately stood and bowed to his master; it wasn't an obsequious gesture, but a simple and slight inclination of his upper body. Suckup. "We haven't, of course," he said, his voice far more musical and pleasant than when he'd been lecturing Zhi. It was to be expected, but she was irritated nonetheless.
Zhi hadn't seen Thatcher in person before. She'd a general description of the woman composed of numerous rumors and the terse snippets of neutral information Clove sometimes let slip, but as ever the reality had its differences. She cataloged Thatcher's face, build, manner and dress, her eyes lingering on the woman's hair. A striking color made more so by her eyes, one often noted and not, in Zhi's opinion, over-exaggerated by the rumors.
"Madame Thatcher, may I present Zhavi Streetrunner. She is one who deals in moving small quantities of goods as well as information acquisition and trade within the city," Clove said as he took his seat, gesturing to Zhi.
Zhi didn't stand. She folded her arms and nodded to Thatcher, cheerfully ignoring the cutting glance Clove sent her way. For all he was pretty, it didn't do him a whole lot of good when he was mad. It took effort for the world's beautiful to look dangerous, in Zhi's opinion. Clove had certainly never mastered the art.
"Charmed," she said, sitting forward. Her ears were upright and pointed towards Thatcher, showing interest in the mysterious woman. "I been hearin' talk o' trouble twixt th'marked houses. Clove here thinks y'could make use o'information afore things get sour."
Zhi's smile was broad and confident in its implication that she could be the one to provide said information and prevent any number of potential calamities.
Zhi hadn't seen Thatcher in person before. She'd a general description of the woman composed of numerous rumors and the terse snippets of neutral information Clove sometimes let slip, but as ever the reality had its differences. She cataloged Thatcher's face, build, manner and dress, her eyes lingering on the woman's hair. A striking color made more so by her eyes, one often noted and not, in Zhi's opinion, over-exaggerated by the rumors.
"Madame Thatcher, may I present Zhavi Streetrunner. She is one who deals in moving small quantities of goods as well as information acquisition and trade within the city," Clove said as he took his seat, gesturing to Zhi.
Zhi didn't stand. She folded her arms and nodded to Thatcher, cheerfully ignoring the cutting glance Clove sent her way. For all he was pretty, it didn't do him a whole lot of good when he was mad. It took effort for the world's beautiful to look dangerous, in Zhi's opinion. Clove had certainly never mastered the art.
"Charmed," she said, sitting forward. Her ears were upright and pointed towards Thatcher, showing interest in the mysterious woman. "I been hearin' talk o' trouble twixt th'marked houses. Clove here thinks y'could make use o'information afore things get sour."
Zhi's smile was broad and confident in its implication that she could be the one to provide said information and prevent any number of potential calamities.
