dahlia
You can't buy this fineness
Humming an indulgent sound of appreciation around her next sip of wine, Dahlia makes a mental note to skip back down to Torchline once Longheat hits. In the meantime, the rest of her evening may well find her at one of the street vendors out along the coastline, a glass of (much cheaper) wine in hand and a plate of deep fried ramphire to enjoy. Who knows, maybe she'll even find some company worth keeping while she's there?
"I don't suppose you happen to have any of that gin laying around your bar?" she wonders; if they're gossiping about the man, they may as well drink his liquor, right?
And so it's with another soft laugh that she listens to Flora's explanation, before focusing on what, to anyone listening in, might actually be a very reasonable regional discussion. "Nothing of note, I ought to think. Our lines of transport and communication remain open, which is both wise and welcome from both sides, I ought to think. Ah, I do see your co-leader up there quite a lot, though. Perhaps it would be polite if he dropped by to see me in the same way you've been so kind as to open your doors to me."
"I don't suppose you happen to have any of that gin laying around your bar?" she wonders; if they're gossiping about the man, they may as well drink his liquor, right?
And so it's with another soft laugh that she listens to Flora's explanation, before focusing on what, to anyone listening in, might actually be a very reasonable regional discussion. "Nothing of note, I ought to think. Our lines of transport and communication remain open, which is both wise and welcome from both sides, I ought to think. Ah, I do see your co-leader up there quite a lot, though. Perhaps it would be polite if he dropped by to see me in the same way you've been so kind as to open your doors to me."
Let me see the heat get to it
