Azabeth's set of leathers were unique, the buckles and ties in seeming strange places until one contemplated the fact that, if one was a thief, having shiny bits or things that stick out to catch on your surroundings might not be so bad an idea. Where Aurin's knowledge fails him, though, Az herself intercedes, guiding his hands to the proper places and smiling like a fallen angel all the while.
"Till dawn, at least," she agreed, and that angel's smile turned wicked as she shrugged out of the upper half of her leathers, baring her shoulders to firelight and little else.