I am the people//I am the storm//I am the riot//I am the swarm // private! we welcome stalkers, but this is closed to rpers!

Amira tilted her chin up, raising an eyebrow almost regally at him despite the way her hands couldn't stop moving, fiddling and playing and plucking invisible strings of air. "The kindest and best hospitality you could lend me is letting me sleep under the stars. Besides, Malakai doesn't fit in most tents, and we don't leave each other's sides. I'm sure you of all people would get that." She motioned between Zar and the stag next to him. "He's my second in command in our two-creature army." He was also her sole companion, the only one she hadn't left behind or scared off or split ways with, and her confidante. In many ways her best friend. She had raised him from a cub when she was a teenager, and he had awarded her the same favor.

Amira did follow him, but she stopped in the opening of the tent, not fully entering. Malakai sat just outside, intelligent and predatory eyes watching everyone and anything passing by, ears flicking occasionally. They were back to back again. A well-oiled machine, partners in defending each other. For a year now, they'd helped each other survive situations that should have killed them, laying their lives on the line and giving them over entirely. That tiger was her best friend, and she, his.

Now, as Amira watched the woman who'd side eyed her with a wary curiosity, she was full on playing an invisible instrument, a silent song caused by the experienced movement of her fingers. Whatever she was playing, it didn't take an expert to know she had to be good at it. "Are these tents made of multiple different fabrics? Or a specific one?" She asked curiously, tilting her head as she addressed the woman, not Zar. In fact, she seemed to have managed to forget they were even talking.

Amira was quiet for a moment, tapping her foot along to the silent song she was playing, before speaking again. "Multiple fabrics. Do you have any Meraikina-skin?" Meraikina were a type of sea creature who's skin was often used for it's water proof abilities. They had almost been overfished at one point, but regulations had been put in place by most countries and kingdoms, and the species was once again flourishing. Without giving anyone a chance to answer, she spoke again. "It's a bit tough to sew, because it's so thick, but if you know a few tricks it's easy. Your guild steals, right?" The last question seemed like such a random change in subject, without any explanation, but was in fact entirely related.

"She's not wrong." Amira said, shrugging a shoulder before looking back to Shah. "You aren't wrong. So, you've used up almost all of it?" There was something in the way she spoke, like she had some sort of plan formulating, something she was debating mentioning. You have no reason to. Sure, but she also had no reason not to. And any chance to mess something up for her parents…

"There are plenty of those, for sure." Amira muttered under her breath, before perking up. "I have some information that might be of use, then. An offering, since I'm being allowed temporary refuge for the night. Staying for free means debt, and debt is at least number tiev on my list of things I hate." Another slip into her home tongue. Meraikina was a term more used by her people, though it was known by others. And tiev was straight up a word in her language, the number three.

Amira flicked an eyebrow up as she watched Zar watch the crest burn, something like understanding flickering in her gaze. She knew that look. She'd worn it herself. Whatever country the crest originated from, he wasn't a fan of it, obviously. "Are you saying there's no debt only if I join you? Because I'm not quite the kind of person you want me joining your people. I'm a bit too much of a handful, I hear."

((You're good dude, don't worry! I just got done with dinner myself))

"Name dropping doesn't always ward off shitty people." Amira pointed out, shifting on her feet. Like she was somehow impatient standing right there. Taking three steps to the side, she stopped, and the shifting ceased as she continued playing her song. "But you know, it might be nice. To have a place to fall back. As long as I'm not shackled here." Her strange, and slightly familiar, eyes flickered around for a moment, before landing back on Zar. "I might leave sooner rather than later though. I've got a bit of fun planned, and it sure would be a waste to skip over it. A once in a lifetime aligning of the stars, my 'ukht-" Sister. "-would have called it."

Amira's eyes were now trained outside the tent, watching the people that moved about to set to work fixing the tents. Her hands had stopped, now fiddling with her belt and the things on it. "And what if I never do find your camp again? Or what if I say yes to joining, and just never show my face anywhere any of you can see it? What are the rules and regulations, beyond just 'don't kill anyone'? Am I required to pay a tax of anything I steal?" The questions came at a rapid-fire pace, half just her nature, and half a habit she had picked up to throw royals and advisors off their game when she needed to. Most people couldn't even register that many questions.

"Oh, perfect. I don't need fabric anyways, it's more about the ethics behind the whole thing." Amira said offhandedly, nodding for an extended period of time. Even if she sort of walked and stood like she was still a princess, she definitely didn't act or talk like one. A princess sat still, her mother had told her once, eyes casting a disappointed look over her plate down the dining table. And yet, Amira had never been able to sit still. She wasn't sure why, but she'd long since learned that trying to keep still was hell. "Makes sense. You don't have to worry about royals, I happen to not like them. The only thing really worrisome is my memory." She tapped the side of her head a few times, what looked like a spool of wire in her hand. "I forget. Easy. All the time, even important things. Like I said, not the best person to have on your team."

((Lmao everyone grows weary of her. That, or it pisses them off))

He's playing the trust game. It was instantaneous, the realization. For someone who grew up around people who did nothing but play games, she could spot them easily, even if they weren't actually games being played. "Pure iron, or can it be mixed with another metal?" Amira asked, her own curiosity getting the better of her. She shouldn't buy into games, she knew that, but she really couldn't help herself sometimes. That might have been her fatal flaw. Intuition and curiosity at the same time made for a deadly combination, whether for her or for other people. "And why, exactly, are you telling me this?"

Bad memory or not, everything Zar said was filed away on the off chance she would be able to remember it. Who knew, maybe it would come back. “I guess we do.” Amira agreed, arching an eyebrow with a strange elegance. I should get my eyebrow pierced. A stud or two in one of them. That would be fun. “That’s how the world turns, ain’t it? Games are played, whether you win or lose?”

"The from doesn't matter so much as the next." Amira said vaguely, slipping the wire away and pulling out some odd vial full of a golden shimmery substance that seemed to change from liquid to powder and back again. She tossed it in the air once before catching it, then fiddling again. "But if you really must know, my home was at one point the Kingdom of Kehlaia. A beautiful country with shit ass government and royalty. Prophets bless."

"The only decent royal was probably the youngest princess of my kingdom. I hear she was a sweet person." Amira mused, shifting half a step away from him at this new information. Valdorian. He was from the same kingdom as her husband-to-be was. "But arrogance is a trait common in those of higher class, don't you think?" Papa wasn't too bad, a good man at heart. But he fell victim to my mother and his advisors. I just hope Rana doesn't suffer the same fate. "I've met a few Fae in my lifetime, and they aren't the worst, at the very least. Now, Turians? I've never met any people who have all been so unfailingly horrible." They didn't like her or her people, to say the least. And tended to have a…hostile view on her being anywhere near where they were.

"They are, but she really was." A small slip up. Sort of. It was odd, the intensity and knowing in her voice, but she came across as so flighty and strange that if one wanted to, they could pass it off as just a weird thing. "No, wasn't that the eldest princess? She was next in line, but as a daughter, she couldn't inherit the throne. So it would make sense to try and get an heir as quick as possible, since there was no chance of the Sultan and his wife conceiving a son." She eyed the vial in her hand, holding it up to catch the light with it, the contents shimmering brightly. "They don't. They create resentment, more often than not. Especially towards kids born of that union."

A servant. That worked. She could absolutely work with that. "Yeah. I swapped between kitchen work and waiting on the princesses. The youngest was sweet, but the eldest was….a mess, to say the least. Resentful herself." His comment about the children of arranged marriages being forced struck a cord, and she was about to speak to agree with him, when he reached out and brushed back one of her messy curls.

Amira froze.

The princess, who had not ceased moving since the moment she had met him, since the moment she had entered the camp, went completely still, her expression drawing closed like the shutters on a window, blocking out everything and keeping everything in. "My people treasured beauty, yes." She said, her voice cold and empty and odd-sounding, distant, like she wasn't fully speaking as herself, but rather withdrawing and relying on the motions and habit of speaking.