They had met. They had talked. That was the reason Zhi walked the docks, seeking out Doendragasyn's ship.
She didn't trust him. She didn't trust his so-called informer, the broker who went by the name of Jack. She didn't like the way he'd phrased things, had liked less the way he'd spoken to her. Not that she wasn't used to it.
The ship was further out, too big to belong in the nearest section with all the fishing boats and smaller pinnaces. Zhi didn't mind the walk, considering she had to work off leftover exhaustion from the day prior and the little sleep she'd managed to steal for herself. She'd been smoking again. She loved it. She hated it. There were a million flies buzzing around the confines of her skull.
She tried not to let it show.
Preparation for the day included leather and thirteen inches of steel. A rondel dagger, purchased with money she'd gotten from the clodhopper, with a fur-lined sheath and a leather-and-wire wrapped hilt. It was sharp, and obvious.
Zhi wasn't a fighter. But oh, she could ooze blade-for-hire out of her pores.
Her hair had been slicked back, was held out of her face with a cheap leather strap. A few clumps had been braided and beaded, and they hung behind her ears. She'd banded her tail with copper and bronze jewelry, hiding the kink in it. She smelled of leather and oil with a niggling underpinning of ocean and something unsavory. She held herself upright, moved with the studied grace of a fighter.
She looked the part of everything Kink wasn't.
Zhi had always been good at playing parts.
She stopped when she reached the edge of the ship's gangplank, and looked over it until she saw the watchman. "I'm here t'see Cap'n Doendragasyn. Tell 'im his appointment's here."
Her grin showed way more teeth than was necessary.
She didn't trust him. She didn't trust his so-called informer, the broker who went by the name of Jack. She didn't like the way he'd phrased things, had liked less the way he'd spoken to her. Not that she wasn't used to it.
The ship was further out, too big to belong in the nearest section with all the fishing boats and smaller pinnaces. Zhi didn't mind the walk, considering she had to work off leftover exhaustion from the day prior and the little sleep she'd managed to steal for herself. She'd been smoking again. She loved it. She hated it. There were a million flies buzzing around the confines of her skull.
She tried not to let it show.
Preparation for the day included leather and thirteen inches of steel. A rondel dagger, purchased with money she'd gotten from the clodhopper, with a fur-lined sheath and a leather-and-wire wrapped hilt. It was sharp, and obvious.
Zhi wasn't a fighter. But oh, she could ooze blade-for-hire out of her pores.
Her hair had been slicked back, was held out of her face with a cheap leather strap. A few clumps had been braided and beaded, and they hung behind her ears. She'd banded her tail with copper and bronze jewelry, hiding the kink in it. She smelled of leather and oil with a niggling underpinning of ocean and something unsavory. She held herself upright, moved with the studied grace of a fighter.
She looked the part of everything Kink wasn't.
Zhi had always been good at playing parts.
She stopped when she reached the edge of the ship's gangplank, and looked over it until she saw the watchman. "I'm here t'see Cap'n Doendragasyn. Tell 'im his appointment's here."
Her grin showed way more teeth than was necessary.
