https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/raf/3162803/145#post_52835432
Tincture nods in silent approval at the bounty. Studying the paper reveals that the centaur is needed for a smithing convention of sorts and the location of their lair.
It turns out the group lives in the desert near the emberglow hearth, their manes lit by both the pale cyan of lighting and the amber heat of magma. It illuminated their encampment dramatically from below and makes the bodyguard's hide shimmer like the twilight sea, reflecting off his armor like an midnight sky, winking stars into existence.
When she's led to him by a young foal, she curtsies, kree ofer knee, as is most respectfull amongst the hardy smiths and roaming engineers of the shifting expanse. It shows a willingness to soften stance, a moment where work and hot steel is set aside to observe silently. The centaur bows back, a traditional smith's sweep to show appreciation of shared values and honorable conduct.
Tincture rights herself first, her sleeve draping to the side to show her scarred arms.
"Greetings. I come with good intention and aim to bring keen skills and efficient learnings to you and yours."
The centaur nods, a smile lighting up his eyes.
"Well spoken, and a warrior besides! Tell me what you've come for and I shall consider my best!"
The ridgeback smiles in return, explaining her plight to escort the centaur to a his smithing convention, stressing her certainty that he does not need her help, but impressing firmly her need to honour a contract of any kind.
Despite the frown at the news, warrior's honour wins out and Tincture gains his respect. With little hassle, she escorts him to the bounty station, where she leaves him to the care of others.
During mealtimes she has kept exacting logs about the terrain, weather and client satisfaction, which she hands over as part of her report.
"Returned to you are the records of my plight. If the report appears satisfactory, could I perhaps ask for the Gem Thief apparel as reward?