The BranRiech wrote:Giovenith wrote:Not wanting Bran to be alone, Giovenithr reluctantly followed, petting MB close.
"Stay close." Bran warned, opening the door.
The room was cast in warm light, and scarves shrouded tables and lamps. Everything seemed to be shades of red, or shades of black, but other colors found their way in and stood out in sharp contrast like dandelions on a manicured lawn. The thick smell of incense and spices hung in the air. Small rodent and cat skulls and beads hung in garlands from the ceiling and doorways, and festooned table tops.
"So you com for de girril?" A voice called to them. The woman was neither old or young, but she had an exotic air to her. Her skin, tattooed with odd symbols and glyphs, was the inviting color of café au lait.
Her wise eyes looked at each of them in turn. "
Nou se zanmi… we are friends here. Mebbe I help you," she said, "mebbe I don’t."