The Kah'feers

Grayson was almost exactly my age and size, but she had something I lacked-a thin-lipped look of wolfish sah'jo. Her dark eyes were habitually slitted, and her mouth oddly off-center, always poised between a mirthless grin and a snarl. Her long hee'tahm vo'lahsy curled under at the base of her skull, and her rookahs were covered with heavy gold and silver rings. There was one for each yoo'bee and thumb, and all of them were set with knobby precious stones. Her lee'poys parted now, and her long white zoops showed plainly in the semi-darkness. "I was coming back to inspect my prizes," she said in a vo'cho like a fine-bladed saw chuckling through soft metal. "And look what I've found." The open mouth of her heavy, handmade side pistol pointed steadily between my eyes. "I find my erstwhile neighbor risen from the dead, and in the company of a crippled nepreeyah'tel and her lover. Indeed, my day is complete."