Giriel raises the porcelain teacup to her lips with a hand that makes it look so small. She ought to swallow the whole thing in a single gulp, but she savors it, the steam from within joining in its slow entwining way with the gray veil without. 

That teacup is her only defense. She can, politely, say nothing, so long as it touches her lips. It would be the height of rudeness even of a Cathak to interrupt a woman tasting a freshly brewed green with delicate hints of chrysanthemum and jasmine. 

She knows that once she lowers it, she will accept the dress. What matter that a gift packed so tightly is an omen of long entrapment? Or that Red Wolf is, in her entire symbolism, the embodiment of the seductive flame that burns all who touch it in rapture? She’s not even trying to hide it and that’s really the point. The flame isn’t seductive if it’s hidden and distant. It is seductive because it dances naked right before your eyes and nothing stands between you and its warmth. 

But this is the thing, she knew all this before ever taking a meeting with Cathak Agata. Her reputation preceded her. And while she might give off that air of uncertainty, that too was part of her symbolism, one of her key tools in fact because it meant that people gave her the right context to do her magic rather than run in with swords drawn. But she had taken that meeting anyway because...well, she wasn’t exactly sure and she hid that behind the tea cup, which really was very good and deserved several seconds of being slowly savored.

Perhaps she had taken it merely because she had been asked. Someone important needed a favor from small town witch Giriel Bruinstead? It must be something very specific to her talents and if someone this important needed that, well, that must mean there was a very important ghost up to mischief or some divination that needed doing and was specially up her alley. Whatever it might be, she had more or less resolved to do it because it needed doing before ever coming to the tea house. Now, in that context, how could she possibly refuse such a kind and lovely gift? Even seeing the entrapment it represents, how could she?

So she lowers the teacup gently and carefully, and then offers Red Wolf a broad smile. “This is far too kind a gift for me” she says, making no move to push the box away. A humble acceptance, rejecting in words while taking no action. Even as a foreigner, Red Wolf would understand the gesture and the girl with the box would move to place it with Giri’s belongings that she might try it on later. 

Gosh, who would she pose for? S-she needed to think about that but later!

[Red Wolf may take a string and make her request.]