Meadowlark Prairie countess

maggie knew she'd been seen. but the figure walked off. "'ey!" the aspiring courtesan shouted, long pale legs breaking into a run.
another woman.
maggie snorted, drawing to a stop not far away. "ain't there no culls in this entire bloody world?" she asked no one in particular, before her glacier-ice expression flicked over the stranger. "don't suppose yer lookin' for work, is yew?"
maggie thought of jawahir, and more sweetly, of ramesses. there was a colorful smirk upon her lips as she waited.