Sonje by Sie!
There was some sort of mutual agreement there, a threat lingering between them that either only hinted or played at. But they were being so harmlessly flirtatious with one another that though they were being honest, it was difficult to actually tell. If Itzal thought she deserved a fighting chance, the concept made Sonje smile wryly, as she thought she might enjoy a fight with him. Feeling herself superior (especially to males, as she'd been raised), the Helsi dog hybrid fancied fighting males—proving herself as the fairer sex. Regardless, she thought a fight would Itzal would be more along the lines of sparring instead of something serious, though she didn't let the latter leave the back of her thoughts.
With a mind to take a look at the jewelry store afterwards, she continued scouting around the smithstore with a finger placed pensively on her chin. Don't flatter yourself. I'm always speaking of violence,
she scoffed, her bushy tail giving a nettling flick. She reached suddenly, for a rack of swords tucked against the wall behind several other rows. The handle she grasped was cupped with a half-basket guard, her slender fingers molding nicely against the wooded, brass-accented hilt, and when she pulled it out of the rack, it was bound in a strong leather scabbard, also accented in brass. Pulling the cutlass blade from its sheath, she sighed pleasantly as she found it to be onyx in color. It was an immaculate sword for her.
She turned, just as Itzal fished an appropriate name for her new dagger, and she smiled a little gratefully. Viper,
she repeated, taking it from him and rubbing her fingers over the gold-swirled base. In her other hand, the cutlass, she pointed at him loosely. This, I'll call Mamba. I've never used a sword before though,
she said, swinging the sabre down and admiring it. She set Viper down on the counter momentarily, if only because she wanted to find a sheath for it to tote more safely. You any good with swords?
she asked, giving the slasher a swing and grinning as it easily lodged into one of the wooden support beams still standing in the room. It'd sliced so cleanly through that she had to use both hands to dislodge it again.
She suddenly couldn't wait to chop someone's arm off.
#je-bust p { text-indent: 40px; padding: 0; margin: 10px 0; }
#je-bust p.jeImage { float: right; text-align: right; font: 10px Verdana; font-style: italic; margin: 0px;}
#je-bust .ooc { text-indent: 20px; text-align: left; font-size: 11px; font-family: Verdana; line-height: 16px; font-weight: normal; }
#je-bust q { letter-spacing: 0px; font-weight: bold; }
</style>[/html]