Althrae was truly a gem of the caravan. A mere turn of her wrist and ankle had men and women alike turning their attention her way to watch the grace she carried herself with.

The dancer should have been in a foul mood with RhyDin's weather still chilly when she was longing for the heat of Summer and the turn of Fall already.

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and put her hands to the silk clad swells of taunting hips of hers. Heart-shaped face lifted as she eyed the three story building known by most in the area as the Red Dragon.

"If the child does not come to me, I come to her." A stubborn shift of her shouders softened in those very lines to see the tall, burly man who seemed to be there each time she had stepped foot in the Dragon. On the graceful steps of a dancer, she moved up the stairs of the porch. Sultry smile was given to him as she brazenly moved in close enough to the man and ran her ungloved fingers from his wrist up along his arm to his shoulder.

But she had not come to see Guido. She was there to find the little ex-slave. A pout was in full view, but oddly enough she managed a vixen's smile as she moved towards the door and made her way into the inn.

Her nose wrinkled imediately. She hated the smell of most places indoors. And most certainly, she hated how musty some of the common rooms of the taverns and inns could get -- especially in Winter when proprietors were less likely to throw back the shutters and open some of the windows.

Low-riding leather band about her hips trailed silk panels at the front and back of her with a halter about her breasts to leave her middle bare. The cloak was opened and let fall over a nearby chair. She brushed the door closed and scoured the room for her until she was found by the hearth.
"Damnable thing, always near the fire." Her lips curled with a curious smile. "One can get burned that way.." But thoughts were already elsewhere as she picked her way through the crowd, straying only a little to see that man that had been standing outside of the inn was now standing sentry ..inside to watch the dancer. She made certain that her hips gave a touch more sway for him with those last few steps to the hearth.

S'jira watched the Dancer approach. She was careful to place Kitty's dress aside and the sack of beads so that cloth wasn't ruined or the latter spilled as she had that day when Peredhil had startled her. Then she stood to delicate height and paused a pace away from the crackling fire.

"You look well enough." Althrae eyed the younger woman and stepped up to her to take her by the chin and lift it with a light, lifting thrust of her fingers before her hand fell with a slap against her own, right bare thigh where the silk panels didn't cover the flesh of it.

"Time has been had for most healing." S'jira had nearly ducked her head, away from the woman's touch to her chin. It was all too familiar for her to fall into and she strove against it. She lifted her face and gaze met the other woman's well enough.

"Good. You have fallen slack on your lessons."

"Lessons that can be continued?" S'jira eased a half a pace back to ensure a little distance from the brazen woman.

"Oh yes, S'jira. We can continue. Still a secret from your Panther?"

"Yes. Yes, please. It is wished to be a surprise for him."

"Very well." Althrae's hand went up with flippant gesture. "A secret it will remain. But understand. At the end of every week, I am otherwise.. occupied with one of the local merchants. Understood?" But she did not wait for S'jira's response, but moved off towards the door to resume the conversation that had not quite started with Guido.

Practice.

The Dancer had not had to tell her, but the encouragement that was needed was lacking. Althrae was not the sort that coddled and she did not tell anyone else that she was dancing. She was yearning to tell Panther and couldn't. Not yet. There was wish for surprise in this -- to offer that dance for him, to him, when the time came. But the time was not right. Not yet. She still had much more to learn and practice at. Until then, it was the only thing that made her feel as if she were lieing to him about.. and that much did not sit well with her. It was necessary, though, if she was to surprise him.

S'jira was a very small woman, and for all of the perfect and illustrious beauties of the realm she felt like a very plain sort. But the love for dance was there. And for Althrae to have taught the ex-slave how to dance at all was nothing short of a miracle that she could never repay to the caravan dancer.

For hours, that day the three of them had been at the abandoned chapter house: Althrae, S'jira, and a youth. The young man had been someone Althrae had brought along almost every time since the first day of learning the dances. He was a wirey boy that barely looked a day over fifteen but he was skilled at percussion on the two small, connected drums that he held between his knees sometimes, as well as a fine flute of metal and wooden instrument that he shook to make it sounds like water pouring over rocks.

Althrae had been at S'jira over and over again when the small woman lost her footing and landed on the floor and smarted her right hip. Red silk clung to her thighs and her chest within the halter of leather and silk rose and fell with the rush of breath. Dark hair hung about S'jira's face and lips parted sucked in another breath.

"Ugh! What is this!? Come, S'jira. Up on your feet again!" Althrae threw her own hands sharply together to encourage the smaller woman's haste at the command.

S'jira moved a hand to the floor and gathered herself back up to her small, bare feet. Touch moved against claret red cloth to gently release it from her heated flesh. Then she pushed against her hair until it fell against her back and felt the ends of it near the small of her back. Face and neck, even along her spine, glistened with the sweat of hours at practice under Althrae's strict tutelage.

"That was plain sloppy." The pride of the caravan strode towards S'jira and rounded her slowly until she stood behind her. Althra moved her hands up under S'jira's arms and insisted them up. "Up.. up! There. Let your arms left with grace and curve them inwards.. just a little, as if you are reaching out for a lover. Like that! Good. Now.. step off to the right and drag your left toes over the floor.. but not too much! You are no gimp, S'jira! Grace.. grace!"

Every command was taken in and learned from, encorporated into the routine of dance that Althrae had been teaching her months. Over three months now and Althrae's ways were no gentler than they had ever been. She was not cruel, but simply she took the approach of one who would stand for no non-sense.

Muscles complained a little, but her awkward movements had greatly improved. She no longer tripped over her own feet with every turn -- those times were but once or twice a week now. And her aches were growing to be somthing more distant to memory.

She smiled to think of Panther and nearly lost her footing. Frowning at herself, she concentrated again and regained the beat that the youth played on the small, connected drums of wood and animal hide.