[center][color=c4df9b][u]Dareen Kahina[/u][/color][/center] 
[center][i]front parlor[/i][/center]

The Pruulish witch looked up at Mikhail and tilted her head to one side.[color=c4df9b] "I, uh, might do that. Thanks."[/color] She didn't move from the couch, however, and watched him go. He seemed to be in a good mood...Dareen liked him better the other way. A few moments later, Xandar lumbered on through and Dareen raised her eyebrows expectantly, but he said nothing and was soon gone. Then, someone else walked in. 

Dareen eyed the stranger wearily. Judging from his face, he was probably another brother. How many of them were there? What's next; Crendar? Shmenvar? Fortunately, this one seemed easier to tell apart from his shaved head. The thing that was most different about him was his confident, almost hostile aura. He began unloading books- he was well read, apparently. Dareen always preferred verbal story telling to books, she thought absent mindedly.

Blinking, she focused back on him and spoke to answer his question. [color=c4df9b]"I'm sitting on your sister's couch like my executions is nigh because I have nothing better to do. It's either this or look at flowers."[/color]

[color=c4df9b]"I've only just gotten to know her...and under pretty unpleasant circumstances. But hey, at least the law is on my side, right?"[/color] She was remarking about the irony of the situation. Despite all the killing Dareen did, Faeril was actually the one hiding from society. Dareen was actually an upstanding citizen by the law's standards. The thoughts were bitter and humorous, leftover from her times as a mercenary. Kill one person, you're scarred for life. Kill ten, you don't feel it anymore. Kill fifty, it's funny. At least, that's how it was for Dareen.