[[ continued from here ]]
Tahjan leaned against the bar, elbows resting lightly. He debated a chair, but quickly decided against it. It was made for someone smaller with different legs than he had. Wedging himself under there would just be an exercise in frustration for little comfort. The glass in his hand wasn’t much better and he sipped from it with care so he didn’t catch a fang on it. His sharp ears flicked and tilted, absently listening to the cantina’s denizens.
A whiff of a vaguely familiar scent came to his nose. It wasn’t someone he knew, but it was a species he knew and didn’t often smell. Cathar. Particularly one like himself. The older subspecies had a particular ‘wild’ musk to them that was lacking in the Juhani types and sometimes even the Myr Rho subspecies. All were Cathar, but all were unique as well. This one was a Cathar of the same type as himself and female. Very interesting.
Tipping his head, bright blue eyes focused on a tall, strong-looking female with a golden coat liberally marked with deep black. It matched the thick crest-like mane between her ears and the dark stripes along her muzzle drew attention to emerald-green eyes. Without thinking he gave a low chuff of greeting, a little cautious but curious.
Her words brought a quick, sardonic grin to his face, flashing the long sharp teeth. “You aren’t so bad yourself,” he murmured back in a deep rumble of a voice that showed potential to be a harsh growl or a lazy purr. “I haven’t seen one like myself in a long time and you’re pretty easy on the eyes.” One side of his muzzle quirked up in a crooked, playful smirk.
“Mercenary is closest,” he said after a moment’s thought. “Smuggler sometimes. Muscle when I’m in the mood.” He canted his head curiously at her. “What about yourself, Kurva?” He added the Catharese word with a little smirk. He had to admit being curious about how she would react to him basically letting her know he found her attractive physically.
[[ Kurva is from this. Which is a fan-based glossary of Catharese. No credit is taken by me for making it up! ]]
Tarja’s ears flickered and twitched at the pleasant rumble of the stranger’s voice. Her grin came to mirror the stranger’s smirk when he met her semi-compliments with one of his own. No messing about - she liked that. What’s more, it’d been a while since she’d heard her first language spoken by someone other than herself - and even longer since anybody had openly expressed attraction to her through it.
Maybe she’d get more than just a new contact out of this introduction.
She touched a hand to the side of her neck, flattening the thick fur there with an indulgent press, then tilted her head back in a stretch. It wasn’t wholly generalisable, but Tarja had courted enough of her own species in her time that she knew many regarded a bared throat as a signal of receptivity. Mock-stretch spent, Tarja dropped her hand, and cut her response with a low, husky purr.
“A man of many talents, huh?” she said, openly copping another good look at the fine form of the stranger. “Your crew - you have a crew, right? - they must be countin’ themselves real lucky to have you onboard. As for me - well, I’m just in charge of a ship fitted with a real respectable team of bein’s. Only interested in takin’ the most upstandin’ jobs, us.”
She’d leave it at that for now. The truth - that the crew she commanded was that of a band of reckless, self-serving pirates - would come out soon enough. For now, she had a little extra probing to do. If it turned out this guy was overburdened with a sense of morality or respect for the law, well... they might not get on quite so well in the long run.
Tarja abandoned her comfortable lean on the bar to turn and snap her fingers at the staff.
“Oi, barkeep!” she called. The stony faced twi’lek behind the bar approached, and Tarja carelessly dropped a few credits before him. “I’ll have what he’s havin’,” she said, nodding at the blonde cathar. “Oh, but give it to me in a bowl, yeah? I ain’t faffin’ with a pint glass with these fangs.”
The barkeeper moved off to fulfil her order. Tarja turned back towards her new acquaintance, eyes slightly lidded, an easy smirk on her muzzle.
“The name’s Tarja. Captain Tarja Myrrh. What do they call you, pretty boy?”
