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#repost @artjlw Justin Lee Williams (Melbourne, Australia, 1985- ). I am interested in learning more about Williams’ work, especially as it includes portrayals of animals. This one is Wolfhound Interior, 2020. Oil on canvas, 142.5 x 123.5 cm, 56 1/8 x 48 5/8 inches, (V05498). Thanks to @vigogallery for the tip.

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#repost @paulsirand Paul Sirand (France).  This illustrator and graphic designer appears to include canine representation in his work.   An example of his work is included in the new book from France:  Maxime Gueugneau and Elora Quittet (texts) and multiple artists,  Les Chiens, (Lyon:  Association Kiblind, 2020). @kiblindmagazine

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#repost @r_t_short @klaus_comics Richard Short (London, UK).   I am a fan of Richard Short’s work,  particularly as it includes representations of stylized/anthropomorphic cats and dogs.  The first image is part of a recurring series of promotions for a restaurant and event space in Dalston (East London), Brilliant Corners @brilliant_cnrs.  The third image is of the famous Klaus cat in Short’s eponymous comics series.  

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I am interested in the canine representation in the work of @handler.artt Nancy Handler (USA).  This is Deadfish and Dogbones, 2019.  Collage and acrylic paint on canvas, 6 x 6 in. Thanks to Theodore:Art Gallery @theodoreartbk for the tip.   Handler is among the artists who exhibited as part of the “Dogs and Bones​“ Exhibit at the gallery February 7 – March 15, 2020​.

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#repost @riikosakkinen Riiko Sakkinen (Finland, 1976-, based in Spain). I just became aware of this, whose satirical treatment of pop culture includes portrayals of dogs, anthropomorphic and otherwise. Sakkinen presents himself as the founder of Turbo Realism, a contemporary art movement “which depicts the globalized capitalism with a mocking verisimilitude. He does drawings, paintings, murals, objects, slideshows, installations and interventions about the consumer culture from fast-food to prostitution and from hypermarkets to drug cartels.”

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#repost @galerieforsblom. I am interested in the canine representation in the work of Veikko Hirvimäki (Finland, 1941- ). First image: On Thin Ice, 2017, Painted wood. Second image: Smell of man I, 2015, Painted wood, 103 x 44 x 73 cm / 40.5 x 17.3 x 28.7 inches. Third image: Howling, 2013, Black ink on wood, 224 × 75 × 100 in, 69 × 190.5 × 254 cm.

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I am a fan of the work of the associated artists in the @studiobara @studio_bara project in France, particularly when it includes representations of dogs and cats.  First image by @estocafich Damien Filliatre (France, 1981- ).  Second image by @antoinemaillard @antoinemaillardcomics Antoine Maillard (France, 1989- ). Third image is “Droplet” by @paulburckel @gamberousette Paul Burckel (France, 1980- ) and Studio Bara for Pochep’s (@pochep_philippe) Bulge magazine.

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Eilisen ostokseni perusteella voin päätellä, että kahvinkeittimillä on yksi yhteinen piirre koirien kanssa: mitä pienempi, sitä enemmän ääntä se pitää aina kun se on hereillä.

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Brief follow-up from Exchange of Power II

Saedre made her way back down the stairs of the tavern from where she had finished meeting with Lexa Winthrope, the documents given to her were held close to her breast like she was afraid that loosening her grip might make them disappear into the darkest reaches of the nether. Her head still swam in that dreamlike state she found herself in when given the news that she now held sole ownership to the Winthrope Manor. A home that the arcanist didn’t properly feel very deserving of. She wasn’t blood.

Perhaps this was how Koira felt when her mentor, the late Lidon Ambergin entrusted it to her once upon a time?

Lost in thought, Saedre did not even notice that the heavily cloaked woman from before seemed to have left while she was upstairs. The unease she felt was like it had never happened with more pressing things left to take note of for the near future. In a way, it pained her that Dalaran would no longer be her home. She loved her little flat above the tea shop and finding herself greeted each day by familiar faces she had come to know. There was comfort there. Something she had craved so very much since braving the world beyond Feralas. 

Being gifted with a huge home on private lands was certainly surprising. She entertained the idea of having free-range to restore and redecorate with her own personal touches that would make it feel like home. Restoring the Violet Bastion would only prove to continue to fill Saedre with purpose and the unwanted notion of feeling quite isolated if she were to simply take up residence at the estate all on her own. The last thing she wanted was to feel cut off from the world all over again. To be found left in wanting. So if the kingdom of Stormwind and its territories were to be called home, then she would certainly make the best of it and revitalize a purpose she rather enjoyed when the Violet Bastion was her responsibility. 

Passing under the doorway, the highborne woman stepped out into the nighttime air and breathed in deeply. Koira was one of her closest friends and it still pained her deeply that she would navigate this small measure of a lifetime without her. She pushed Saedre beyond her boundaries and instilled a new sense of bravery within her. When she needed counsel, Koira was there. She had always been there. 

Watching the leaves rustling up above and around the sleepy town of Darkshire, Saedre whispered up to the sky with a small smile, “I will serve your memory well, my friend and in turn, I will forge one of my own in which to be remembered. Your faith in me will not go in vain.”

Unbeknownst to Saedre, but the heavily cloaked woman from before lingered in the darkest shadows of the tavern’s structure; watching her with keen interest. The lithe figure appeared as if she might reach out to the elf, only to pause abruptly and slink back into the shadows, eventually disappearing into the dense forests as quietly as she could. It was only when the chill in the air seemed to return and touch upon the back of Saedre’s neck that the arcanist turned around, but she found no one there.

Not a soul.

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Koira walked the halls of the primary floor to the Winthrope Manor with purpose; a rather large envelope held in both hands across her unnatural lithe frame. Making her way down towards the eastern wing where her sister came and went, the forsaken woman kept her chin held high even as her eyes flitted about the corridors through the dark veil she wore over her face.

Looking about herself, Koira’s stomach turned as she observed the dust and cobwebs covering once well-cared for walls, tapestries, and various furniture. The grime on the windows made the sunlight peering in from the outside look a sickly yellow, making her feel somewhat remorseful for how she simply let everything seemingly crumble around her when she fell. The house staff had been dismissed with severance and nearly everything The Violet Bastion had accumulated was donated abroad to other notable learning institutions. What still remained were mostly personal effects and Koira had forbidden her sister to even touch that in desire of sprucing things up. For so long, most of the manor simply mirrored who she now was and what she might always be.

“Such a waste,” the dark haired woman muttered to herself wearily just before crossing the threshold to the secondary parlor room where her sister sipped from a teacup over a desk of scattered documents. Unlike the majority of the manor, this room was neatly polished and properly organized like a couple of other rooms in this wing that her sister drifted between. The sunlight was so bright and cheerful in this room that Koira couldn’t help but flick a finger towards the thin curtains, pulling them shut with the magic she still kept a firm grasp on as she sauntered towards the desk.

“Honestly, I don’t see how all that sunshine doesn’t give you a headache,” Koira grumped about, tossing the large and rather heavy envelope onto the desk right on top of all of the documents her sister had been pouring over. Koira didn’t know what the documents were nor did she truly seem to care. The envelope was far more important and pressing to her. 

Lexa’s bright blue eyes lifted suddenly over the rim of her rounded spectacles, regarding her younger sister in mild annoyance. It was rather out of the ordinary anymore that the two even spoke most days. The arrangement was nice. Lexa kept her distance in a comfortable space while Koira kept her own. 

“How kind of you to snuff out all of the light in the room while I am trying to work,” Lexa sighed heavily as she leaned back in the chair, a hand waving out over the envelope that was so politely tossed in front of her. “What can I do for you, Koira? And I hope you’re not here on our uncle’s behalf again because my answer is still a firm no.”

Koira crossed her arms across her chest and simply shook her head with a small chuckle, “Nothing like that this time, I assure you. This is more… professional in nature. Good-willed. However you wish to word it.”

“What are you prattling on about, Koira?” Lexa asked impatiently, arching a dark brow while she leaned over the desk and started to open the envelope. She didn’t get very far in opening it up before the damn thing shocked her lightly. “Hey! Is this some kind of joke? I really don’t have ti-”

“Careful now. The documents within are not meant for you. I’ve taken the liberty of enchanting the envelope so that it gets into the right hands,” the forsaken woman snickered, amused by the little shock Lexa received from her attempts at opening the envelope. “I need you to accompany me on a little trip to ensure that these get to Saedre Starweaver.”

Bringing her fingers to her lips in an attempt at soothing the small magical burn she received, Lexa frowned darkly up at Koira with a shake of her head, “You know we can’t be seen traveling together, Koira. Everyone thinks you’re… well, I mean you are… you know..”

“Dead?” Koira inquired in a challenging fashion. If her sister wasn’t going to say it, she may as well. Waving her hand in a dismissive fashion, the forsaken sighed in boredom, “Yes. Yes. That is why I need to deliver these documents. You do not need to worry about anyone seeing me with you like this. You forget how great I am at illusions, dear sister. None will be the wiser.”

“Right, but this Saedre lives in Dalaran, does she not?” Lexa scoffed, eyeing Koira up and down sarcastically. “You may still be brilliant in your own right, but even your illusions won’t fool the Kirin Tor and you are full of yourself to think otherwise.”

“Well, that is where you come into play, Lexa. I need you to do all of the reaching out so we can establish a meeting point with her,” Koira laughed as she pressed her hands out on the surface of the desk and leaned her weight into her arms. “Uncle Kalgaeris and I are moving on from here, and it’s high time you do the same. I cannot expect you to be my protector any longer and even I know that isn’t very fair to you. See? I still have a heart.”

Leaning back against the chair, Lexa folded her arms over her chest while giving her sister a look that didn’t look very convinced regardless of how she responded, “I think that’s smart, actually. If the locals caught wind of the two of you up here, everything around us would likely be burned to the ground without hesitation. So, what are the documents and what does this all have to do with your former colleague?”

“I admit I was selfish for a ti-”

Lexa suddenly burst out in laughter, “Selfish? You don’t say!” Only stopping when she noticed the stink-eye Koira gave her, Lexa straightened up and cleared her throat, “Sorry. You were saying?”

“I would like to entrust the estate with Saedre from this point on. If she will take it,” Koira finally continued after a long pause to recompose herself. The idea of zapping her sister for fun again was so very appealing. “The Violet Bastion shouldn’t have had to die with me.”

“…okay?” Lexa blinked, unsure of whether or not she was following along here like she should be. “And you are hoping she will restore it to its former glory or something?”

“Mm. I suppose,” Koira shrugged, motioning down to the envelope with her head. “All I know is that I cannot continue on with what this new life has in store for me if I didn’t try. I worked too hard on it all. She did as well. It is only right that she receive my last will and testament in full like it was originally intended. I selfishly kept it locked away for too long now. If there is one thing I can do that is good right now, please just let it be this. So, will you help me this one last time?”

“It won’t be the last time I help you, Koira. You’re still my sister,” Lexa confirmed, her eyes reflecting a sadness to them as she stood up, also leaning into the desk to look at her younger sister. “Why don’t I just take them to her myself? There’s no need to put yourself in danger to make sure she gets them. You can trust me. You know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I know that,” Koira lied, the sickly yellow glow of her gaze flickering softly as she glanced off to the side slightly. “It will just bring me peace to see the exchange with my own eyes and determine if I wish to actually speak to her or not directly.”

Nodding, Lexa carefully slid the envelope back to Koira, “If you are uncertain, just hold onto them until it’s time. Now, where should I request this meeting to take place?”

“Darkshire,” Koira replied. “My illusions have yet to fail me there. We will be safe.”

“Why not just have her meet us here?” Lexa scratched her head, mildly confused by all of this meeting out of the way. “Duskwood seems a bit… suspicious, don’t you think?”

“I want our uncle to be long gone from here when Saedre decides to return to these grounds. Or anyone else for that matter. Duskwood will be a fine meeting point and trust me, she will come,” Koira responded confidently, taking the envelope back in her bony hands again and clutching it to her chest. “Send post today. We will have approximately one week from tomorrow to get all of our affairs in order.”

@arcanist-starweaver​ - for mentions towards my main. ♥

@kelanthis​ - for mentions of Kalgaeris!

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Holding a large pastel yellow paper box in her hands, Saedre made her way down the hallway where the Winthrope Manor’s housekeeper directed the highborne woman to go; a knowing grin on his aging face. It was down this hall where her friend Koira could be found in the library; likely drowning the sorrows of her birthday in a good book and some wine.

For the life of her, Saedre couldn’t understand why the human woman hated her birthday so much. From what she had witnessed, it seemed like most of the population of the Alliance enjoyed birthdays greatly. Whatever it was, it didn’t deter Saedre from enthusiastically busting through the library doors and chirping out a ‘happy 35th birthday’ to her fellow started mage who nearly spilled red wine all over herself. 

“Saedre!” Koira gasped, steadying her glass - her other hand drawn up to where she clutched at her chest. Yes. She certainly was startled wasn’t she? Settling the glass on a nearby table, the dark haired woman rose to her feet as calmly as she could while recomposing herself, her complexion paler than Saedre had ever seen before. 

“Oh, I am terribly sorry, Koira. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Saedre laughed softly, presenting the box proudly. “….but I brought cake!”

Just staring at the other woman clearly baffled by her enthusiasm she surely didn’t share, Koira finally sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, “Thank you, Saedre, but you really do not need to announce my age to the world. A simple ‘happy birthday’ would have sufficed.” 

“So I do not need to ask your servant where I can find that many candles then?” Saedre just grinned, setting the pastry box onto a nearby table while Koira gave her the stink-eye. “Oh, no need to be like that. If it makes you feel any better, no cake could possibly hold the number of candles I would require!”

“Says the woman who doesn’t appear to be anywhere near forty for however old you are,” Koira scoffed, clearly jealous. Moving towards the table, she flipped open the lid of the pastry box and found a smirk crossing over her lips. “And now you’re trying to make me fat as well, I see.”

“Well, we could always work it off by dancing,” Saedre suggested with a wink. “We -are- attending that ball. It is in your honor, after all and it is your fault entirely that I enjoy them!”

“Fine,” Koira answered, scooping a bit of frosting onto her finger and tasting it. “But everyone thinks I am celebrating my thirty-second year. Be a friend and do not correct them.”

“My lips are sealed,” Saedre chuckled, also tasting a bit of the frosting off of her own finger. 


Ty for the ask @dardillien-ward!

@kwinthrope mentions - doubt she gets birthdays anymore now! Scene is before she fell during the Battle of Lordaeron of course. :)

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An RP with @masonkohler​!


Mason approached the door to the Winthrope manor, peering around cautiously. Saedre had been right - something seemed off here, a place still in the otherwise busy peacetime Stormwind - and Mason felt it as he raised a fist to knock on the front door. Tucked under his other arm was a heavy book, well-worn, that he had borrowed from Koira some time before the Battle for Lordaeron. He had not seen her again after returning from Teldrassil, though he had tried. By the time he was cleared to leave the field hospital, his burns bandaged and healing, she and the rest of the Violet Bastion had gone north to Lordaeron.

He shuffled his feet, his normal boots replaced by more formal shoes, his armor with tailored clothes fitting the home he was visiting. The knock echoed, and Mason waited.

All was quiet on the grounds, not even as much as a bird chirped from the nearby trees bordering the fiery colored uplands that lingered on the edge of Elwynn and Redridge. Even in broad daylight, it was likely very strange. The man who had knocked may have likely stood there for a rather long moment before any answer came from the other side of the door. The shuffling of feet finally gave some sound of life.

“Who is it? What do you want?” A woman’s voice inquired very quickly and cautiously on the other side of the thick wooden door. There didn’t seem to be any suggestion in her tone and lack of jingling the door handle that she would be opening up anytime soon. “These are private estates, you know? It is no longer open to the public.”

“My name’s Mason Kohler. I’m a friend - was a friend - of Koira. I only heard a little bit ago what happened, and I wanted to pay my respects. And, uh, return this.” He holds up the book as if she could see it through the door. Realizing his mistake, he continued, “A book. I borrowed it before Teldrassil. Took it with me, actually, so I hope you can forgive there’s some ash on it. I thought it should come back to the family, I’ve… held onto it for long enough.”

“I can just… leave it out here if you’d prefer. I just…” He clears his throat, “Wanted to say goodbye I guess.”

There was a faint sigh heard from the other side of the door, followed by a soft thump as the woman on the other side was either leaning into the door at this point or maybe stamped her foot. Who knew?

There was silence for a few passing moments before the woman’s voice replied, “We donated everything to the Academy of Arcane Sciences and abroad but-”

The woman’s voice suddenly stopped and another voice might have been heard within due to hushed inaudible whispers that seemed to be exchanged within. Another few moments passed before her voice began again, this time the sound of locks being unlocked and the door knob turning changed the tune of the exchange.

“Mason, you said?” The woman finally revealed herself through a small opening in the door. There was some recognition to her inquiry of the man, even though the two never met before.  She could have easily been mistaken for Koira. Dark black hair, bright blue eyes - but this woman looked a little older and there was a small birth mark on her left cheek that Koira didn’t have.

The voice was different as well and a little less refined, “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, Mason but there’s not much I can offer you here. Respects are all well and good, but as I told the woman who came here before, there’s a memorial in the back garden you are welcome to pay your respects.”

“As for the book….” The woman frowned, looking at it a moment. “What book is it? I’m not so sure she’d want - er, would want it sitting here collecting dust.”

Mason peers in at the other woman, offering the book through the opening in the door, “It’s a work she dug up on the vrykul, from Pandaria. They apparently had some contact with them before the Alliance expedition to Northrend ever connected them to human ancestors. I don’t know if she ever said - who am I kidding, she probably didn’t - that I’m sort of involved with the Valarjar. I thought it’d be a good read, maybe inspire some poetry or song or something.” The book itself is leather-bound, and certainly has ash stains, though no other visible markers of damage mar it.

“If you want, you can take it, or I can send it off to the Academy myself. I’d still like to stop by the memorial and pay my respects, though. She was…” He sighs, “She was a real good friend, I like to think.”

The woman’s face was void of any emotion except for the fact she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Looking down at the book, she sighed again and returned her eyes to his, “Then I suspect she might wish you to keep it.” Her tone was short; lacking the patience a sensible, polite person might have to a stranger they have never met before in this manner.

“You can just -” Cut off by the sounds of someone sobbing somewhere within the house, muffled it may be, the woman’s voice suddenly got louder as she tried to talk over it and pretend it wasn’t happening, “Yes, keep the book. Goodbye now!”

And without another word, the door was firmly shut right in the man’s face.

Keep reading

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A glimpse into the past and why Saedre will never let anyone set her up on a blind date ever again. Lesson learned.


Saedre Starweaver struggled to grow accustomed to life outside of Feralas since following Archmage Evenshade beyond the dense jungles all the way to Teldrassil. A year wasn’t nearly long enough for someone who spent all their life isolated behind the same walls from day to day, so when Saedre opted to leave Teldrassil for bigger opportunities in Stormwind - she wasn’t nearly as prepared  for the culture shock that she was greeted with upon stepping foot off the ship, and out onto the busy docks. 

Even for an elven woman who was on the shorter end of the scale for one of her race, standing at six feet, nine inches tall - she seemed to tower over nearly everyone she met that wasn’t kaldorei or draenei. To say it was a little uncomfortable for her would have been a bit of an understatement, regardless of how many gawked at her in passing and might have commented on her beauty. 

In Stormwind, it was the first time she had ever encountered a gnome or a dwarf in person - and after nearly tripping over a gnome with bright pink hair and a pair of whirling gizmos covering her eyes, Saedre had never in her life thought to be so cautious of her surroundings until now. Though the tiny woman was more than understanding to the near mishap, the arcanist felt sorry for someone having to grow accustomed to nearly being trampled every day of their life. Needless to say, the little gnome became one of her very first friends within the city. An odd pairing through and through!

As time wore on, Saedre started to find some new level of normal to her day to day living in Stormwind as an instructor within the Academy of Arcane Arts and Sciences. Her millennia of knowledge and what she knew as a privileged member of the Shen’dralar made her peers very eager to get her involved and as comfortable as possible. It was there at the Academy where Saedre met a fellow mage by the name of Koira Winthrope; the two becoming fast friends and amiable rivals. 

Saedre had learned that Koira was what humans considered an upper class citizen, reminiscent of any noble from her own world. One with wealth and friends in all of the right places. She was intelligent just as she was beautiful; earning the eye of many men and even a few women! Saedre was absolutely fascinated by this woman who took her under her wing, helping the highborne woman establish a presence and comfort within the human capital. 

Months had passed and Koira felt comfortable enough in her friendship with Saedre to be a little bold, so she insisted that her friend allow her to set her up on a date. The human woman often teased Saedre with being too serious in her studies and purpose here in Stormwind that she needed to learn how to unwind and just live a little. Reluctantly, Saedre agreed - even letting Koira’s personal staff at her home put her together in a nice dress, make-up, and a fancy hair-style. Even the highborne woman had to admit that it felt nice to be pampered for a change.

“Dirgepike? That’s really his name?” Saedre asked Koira, repeating the name that was given to her in disbelief.  

Koira did her best to conceal a smirk, resting a hand over her mouth to stifle a chuckle, “Just call him Ahdun. No need to be all formal with last names. Now, do you need the address again?”

Saedre shook her head, looking at herself in the mirror again. She was starting to second guess all of this. ‘What an ugly name,’ she thought to herself. “No. I think I will manage just fine, thank you.”

Hearing a chuckle behind her, Saedre quirked a brow and gazed at Koira over her shoulder through the reflection in the mirror. Turning around to face her, the arcanist put her hands on her hips and frowned, “What is so funny? You haven’t been able to keep a straight face all night.”

“Oh? I.. I’m sorry, Saedre,” Koira immediately stopped and cleared her throat. Doing her best to regain her composure, the dark haired woman crossed the room to the taller woman and plucked a small piece of fuzz off the arm of the dress. “You’re going to blow him away looking like this. I am really so excited you are finally doing something fun for a change. Just relax, hm?”

Later that evening, Saedre found herself sitting alone at the table in the small bakery near the mage quarter of Stormwind waiting on her date. She had arrived a little early to make sure she at least found her way there alright, and desired to be the one to pick a table to her liking. If she was going to be forced out of her element tonight, she would at least get to choose her comfort level in terms of seating. 

It was the sound of loud clompy boots that alerted Saedre to look to the doorway where a dwarven fellow entered. He looked like he tried his very best to dress up, but failed when it came to the boots and half-tucked in shirt. The wildflowers he held in his hand suggested he was here to give them to someone, and that was when Saedre’s stomach flip flopped uncomfortably. Surely this wasn’t her date? Koira wouldn’t!

“Oy! Saedre?” The fiery haired dwarf with the biggest beard she had ever seen waved at her. There was a big dumb, star-struck grin on his face as he approached the table where the elf sat frozen in shock. “Well now, yer prettier than ol’ Koira described.”

“Th..thanks…” Saedre fumbled to say, a polite and very awkward smile graced her lips. She was absolutely mortified. She knew Koira had a sense of humor, but she never expected it go this far. “Will you please excuse me a moment?”

Rising from her chair, she aimed to march for the bakery’s washroom to compose herself. Surely she wasn’t going to be rude and just leave the poor dwarf in question - but her idea changed the moment she felt a very firm smack on her bottom. 

“Not’a problem, lass. We ‘ave all night, after all,” he waggled his bushy eyebrows at her. 

Turning around, she narrowed her eyes upon the handsy dwarf and flicked her index finger at him as she made a quick, invisible circle. Before the confused dwarf could ask her what the hell she was doing, he found himself giving out a little squeal in surprise as he was lifted up off of his feet and flipped upside down to hang in mid-air, “Hands off!”

As Saedre left the bakery as quickly as she could, leaving the dwarf to hang in mid-air for a few minutes to teach him a lesson, she wasn’t sure who she was really angry with in that moment. Was this some kind of joke? Did Koira actually think they had anything in common? How in the hell would she and a dwarf work out in that way? The very thought of it made her sick to her stomach. 

“Blind date, huh?” Connie asked in a monotone fashion, looking across the table at Saedre. 

“How could you tell?” Saedre asked the gnome over a glass of wine. She was still dressed to the nines as the two women sat at the Blue Recluse together. 

“Well, you look like how I did when she set me up with a draenei fellow. Then again, he looked like that as well,” the pink haired gnome chuckled into her drink. “I told you not to trust Koira with that. Bet you learned your lesson, huh?”

Saedre buried her face into her arms on the table and sighed loudly, “There’s entirely too much to learn here.”

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