G H E D E
Ghede sat atop one of the three crates in the small clearing, smoking a stubby, hand-rolled cigarette with lazy grace while cradling an open book in his free hand. His almond-shaped eyes were half-closed, his posture so relaxed one could picture him just moments from sleep; in reality, his mind was working in overdrive, as it usually did. He read his book intently while his ears scanned for the approach of the buyers Dracerdis had coordinated the exchange with last week; his magic, invisible for the moment, swirled around him at his behest, gently nudging up a sound here or lowering another there as he saw fit. Bird calls were valuable, gossips as they were, but the gentle rumble of the nearby creek was useless. And there... there were footsteps. Ghede's interest flickered to life, reluctantly drawing his hooded eyes away from the page to scan his surroundings.
Samedi "swam" through the air towards him, twining her sleek seal body around his body like a cat before landing lightly on the ground at his feet. Out of the water she looked weak, useless. What good could a seal do on land? Her ability was kept secret when at all possible for just that reason; leopard seals were named such for a reason. Ghede's head cocked slowly to the side as the footsteps suddenly started running right for him, coming in far too hot for a pickup. Were they pursued then? The next question, of course, was guard or animal, but Ghede's finely tuned and magically enhanced ears caught nothing obvious - no clatter of pursuing footsteps, nor any thrashing brush. Were they hoping to get the drop on him, then?
With a low sigh, moving with about as much urgency as molasses, Ghede pulled the bookmark from the back of the book, slid it into place, then dropped the book into his back pocket as he hopped down from the crate. Almost as an afterthought he reached to the scabbard on his back and pulled a cutlass free, holding it ready in his hands. His stance was not battle-ready, though, and he held the weapon pointed downwards.
He dropped his cigarette to the ground, stubbing it out with the toe of his boot, as someone exploded from the brush in front of him. Without a word, he crouched fluidly down, scooping up the spent butt and dropping it into his pocket. Finally, several long seconds later, he brought dark, mysterious black eyes to bear on the person before him.
"Hello," he said at last, casually. His voice was deep and smooth, and almost unnaturally calm.