He smiled at her now, crinkling the corners of his blue-purple eyes pleasantly. It was such a charming smile that even the naturaly suspicious Dani couldn’t help but return it. “Yes, I am Krijero’s Matara. My name is Dani,” she responded. Almost six feet tal herself, she didn’t have to look too far up to meet the man’s sharp gaze. She self-consciously smoothed her copper hair, the frizzy locks carefuly braided in an effort to tame them. She racked her brain, trying to put a name to the unfamiliar face. She’d thought her clan had introduced her to al their friends, most of who belonged to Kalquor’s police force like themselves. Her Dramok Gelan was a negotiator, Nobek Wynhod a sniper, and Krijero a criminal psychologist. That Dani, who’d often thumbed her nose at authority, had ended up the Matara of a trio of law enforcement officers was always a source of amusement to her. The unknown man bowed respectfuly before her. “Greetings, Matara Dani. I am Dramok Pertak.”
