Rimau stood and listened to Mysaren's proposition carefully, with his arms crossed and his eyes squinting with focus to let her know he was listening. 

"Well, as it 'appens, I was mighty interested in that particular employment opportunity." He replied, curtly. "An' from the looks o' yer, I'd bet m'grand-pappy's soul that y'were some kinda magic specialista."

After he said that, he idly sniffed at the lady by sticking his long, reptilian tongue out for a brief second. It was half-unconscious really, an old habit of his. When a Zizz met a new colleague, it was considered normal to sniff at them to show that they trusted them enough to disregard any blood they may have on them. Which was quite often.

Unfortunately for Rimau, though, the scent he picked up off Mysaren's robes made him wince slightly. She had the stench of death coming off her, there was no doubt. And not just the figurative stench of a killer, but a literal stench of corpses.

"...Necromancy, p'raps?" He asked, in as friendly as polite a tone he could manage. If she was, it'd be understandable if she wanted to hide it, but Rimau had nothing against Necromancers. If anything, he thought zombies made for an excellent barrel of laughs on a dull day, and that's ignoring his religious beliefs.

"...Skills like that work 'specially well as a distraction." He continued, with interest. "...Lemme tell ya, some kids get real touchy when they see dead folks walkin', an' that makes fer a mighty effective distraction. From, say, the barrel of a nice Rifle trained at their 'ead." He said with a slightly devilish grin, pointing at Skrin-Ko's stock on his back; if he was right about her being a Necromancer, it only seemed fair he let her know what his preferred form of combat was. 

"I think we could work well t'gether."