raza
If her face is full of skepticism, it’s because Raza’s bullshitometer is ringing.
She’d watched closely as the stranger pulls something out of a pack. A small thing, that, quite frankly, is unimpressive. Even if she weren’t a bit of an accomplished haggler, she might have turned her nose up at it. “That little thing?” she asks, one eyebrow practically at her hairline by now.
Now her hands cross her chest as she sizes them up, propping the mop against the wall for now. “And why would you trade the most valuable thing you own, here or there, Outlander?” What could they possibly need? And better yet, does Raza have them over a barrel?
She’d watched closely as the stranger pulls something out of a pack. A small thing, that, quite frankly, is unimpressive. Even if she weren’t a bit of an accomplished haggler, she might have turned her nose up at it. “That little thing?” she asks, one eyebrow practically at her hairline by now.
Now her hands cross her chest as she sizes them up, propping the mop against the wall for now. “And why would you trade the most valuable thing you own, here or there, Outlander?” What could they possibly need? And better yet, does Raza have them over a barrel?
