Coloring his hair alone took up more time then Zhi had been ready to give him at the outset. Hair was a messy thing to deal with, but once they were done she was satisfied with the results. One less of Thatcher's who was like to be singled out and taken out before they were ready. Check.
Zhi nodded to him, looking him up and down, and took back her bandana. Finding him an eyepatch that he was comfortable with would take more time then they actually had, but she found a temporary one that was different then the one he had used. True, one-eyed lalafells were not incredibly common, but so long as there was reasonable doubt at first glance. . .
At least they'd made an effort.
The next stop was Yayabuko. The first inkling that they'd found Yayabuko was the nearly-shrill word aimed in their general direction. "No." Yayabuko had such a nice tenor when he wasn't acting like a churl.
He was haunting the docks, as he usually was. He had just stepped out of one of his regular early-morning stopping points: a small shop that sold fishing tack and a few worthwhile bites of information -- if you had the right rep and coin, of course. Zhi walked them right up to him.
"This's Yayabuko, Flit. He's th'one what knows all manner o'people lookin' fer swords."
"I said no."
They were soon within throwing distance of the lalafell man, who was very clearly restraining himself, though he bristled like a porcupine in the process.
"I was thinkin' he'd do well wi' the Heavy Handers," Zhi said, her tone overly bright and chipper. She was watching Yayabuko, ready to dodge or run if necessary. "He's got shorted afore, an' th'Handers always pay their debts, a--"
"Get out! Get out. So help me if you do not vacate my presence immediately I will --"
"This is Flit," Zhi gestured to him, taking exactly one large step back.
Yayabuko had his knife in hand. It wasn't a weapon; it was a tool, primarily. A tool that just so happened to have a very sharp edge.
Zhi nodded to him, looking him up and down, and took back her bandana. Finding him an eyepatch that he was comfortable with would take more time then they actually had, but she found a temporary one that was different then the one he had used. True, one-eyed lalafells were not incredibly common, but so long as there was reasonable doubt at first glance. . .
At least they'd made an effort.
The next stop was Yayabuko. The first inkling that they'd found Yayabuko was the nearly-shrill word aimed in their general direction. "No." Yayabuko had such a nice tenor when he wasn't acting like a churl.
He was haunting the docks, as he usually was. He had just stepped out of one of his regular early-morning stopping points: a small shop that sold fishing tack and a few worthwhile bites of information -- if you had the right rep and coin, of course. Zhi walked them right up to him.
"This's Yayabuko, Flit. He's th'one what knows all manner o'people lookin' fer swords."
"I said no."
They were soon within throwing distance of the lalafell man, who was very clearly restraining himself, though he bristled like a porcupine in the process.
"I was thinkin' he'd do well wi' the Heavy Handers," Zhi said, her tone overly bright and chipper. She was watching Yayabuko, ready to dodge or run if necessary. "He's got shorted afore, an' th'Handers always pay their debts, a--"
"Get out! Get out. So help me if you do not vacate my presence immediately I will --"
"This is Flit," Zhi gestured to him, taking exactly one large step back.
Yayabuko had his knife in hand. It wasn't a weapon; it was a tool, primarily. A tool that just so happened to have a very sharp edge.
