Cont.
[Previous post!] [@actualkomodo]
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It was close enough.
Altan wheezed a quiet chuckle at the other’s guess; the first half had been accurate, it seemed, given the encouragement in his nod... and the way his tail flicked high and tense, alive with curious anticipation. The second half came — and, adding to the first, the Qestir flashed that fiery-yellow-orange marble again: this color light, yes.
However Jikhaa chose to interpret that was up to him.
At last, he plucked back that business card, though; it was useless here, and so it slid back up into the void of his sleeve where all the various bits and bobs he carried seemed to reside. That coin purse plunked noisily into its place on the other’s palm, very much whether it was wanted there or otherwise... and just like that, Altan was heartily pat-patting the other man’s shoulder, introductions complete. A lengthy side-to-side gaze around the area scanned the village all around them...
...and the thoughtful rumble of a hum crinkled his brows again. Hang on a moment. Something was missing.
A questioning shot of a look back to Jikhaa; hands clasped together, and promptly twisted. Cast on the ground, some rudimentary horse-shaped shadow emerged from the motion — complete with a little fingerwiggled ‘gallop’ and toss of its imaginary ‘mane,’ for emphasis.
