Shinsou sniffs around her ankles, his white fur sleek and groomed. When Benihime scoops him up into her arms, he tilts his head to look at her with avid, hungry eyes.
"My owner and yours could do business," he suggests.
"You don't say master," she points out.
"Neither do you," he agrees.
"And?"
He licks at her pale fingers, nosing back her scarlet sleeve. "There's so much to gain. I'm sure we could come to an agreement."
"Indeed we could." Her hand closes on the scruff of his neck. "But unfortunately for you, I've always wanted a fox fur muff."
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