It was a struggle not to gesture wildly with both hands, much less keep that broad, welcoming grin from spreading across her face as Tahma faced Galiah. A lesson slowly learned as the middle-aged hyur had been firm, but never cruel about slowly working away those self-sabotaging habits. Mindful not to burst into a quick flurry of words, the Seeker began to speak.
It was strange, that measured approach. When speaking quickly, desperate to get to the meat of her scam before a possible buyer departed, it had always led to the natural sound of her voice rising higher to match the speed of words escaping. But even she could hear the weight each word carried without that rushed cadence. As Galiah had been sure to teach her, one ought to speak as if they were worth listening to. Not frantically seeking a response.
"I bring an opportunity before you, Madame Galiah." Resting back against the couch, she crossed one leg and neatly laced her fingers on the knee. "While Lord Lolorito has been quick to throw his support into a Saltery, there is still more that can be restored to Ala Mhigo."
Even as a mere lesson, the hyur would never treat it as anything less than a true meeting between fellow traders. Languidly, she puffed from her pipe, offering a response only after breathing the smoke out the side of her mouth.
"Pray elaborate, Miss Tahma. I would appreciate detail."
The urge to smirk was smothered before it could take form, pressing on even as she ensured that grip on her knee was tight enough not to start gesticulating wildly, "Spirits. Arak, to be specific. During the occupation the groves were culled, which makes each surviving bottle only increasingly valuable as the supply dwindles by the day."
"You would suggest we peddle liquor, then? Surely not the few bottles still lingering about Eorzea I should hope, they can be prohibitively costly. And one would need know the art of fermenting arak to hope to generate our own supply." There was a dubious glint to Galiah's eye, though she would not derail the pattern that Tahma was constructing.
"Not quite, though there would certainly be that opportunity as well should the first bear fruit. Literally, even!" She caught herself before excitement over the idea could impact her. "An investment in palm dates. The transportation of the fruits, and a selection of trees themselves of fruit-bearing maturity to begin the process of recovery. While we very well could find one able to make the spirit here, it would lack the same profile. The fruit itself, bathed in Ala Mhigan sunshine and soaking in the nutrients from their soil would almost assuredly impact the flavor as well. But one cannot wait for seasons to pass before the industry can sustain itself. I would suggest we invest, offering the produce at a reasonable rate as well as the agreement that we handle the trade and share profit. Word will spread faster than the drink once something seen as unattainable becomes more commonplace once again."
"There is potential, but what sort of costs would we incur transporting this amount of goods? How many ponze of fruit? Or tonze, for that matter. What are the dimensions of these trees and how easy would it be to bring them so far?"
There was no stopping the twitching and fiddling of those fingers now, as further questions came that the miqo'te had not yet prepared for. She weakly continued, though both knew that the moment had already passed, "Just a matter of days until we know for certain?"
Slowly shaking her head, Galiah upended the pipe to knock out spent ash into a small bowl on the table beside her, "We shall speak through this now, my dear. First, just how much of this did you forget and what was simply never committed to memory?"
