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Post by Deleted on Jun 12, 2014 14:05:56 GMT -6
Shetani has found that today is a rather decent day for getting things done. It isn't as if every other day is bad for it, no, she just hasn't been particularly driven. The young woman strides through a small settlement with a basket tossed over one shoulder, her eyes half-lidded and lazy because she can't really be bothered to look around fully at the moment. She is here for fish; the small settlement of Ers has a rather nice supply of piscine food products that she is able to pick up nearly-fresh every few days or so; one day to walk out and back with a few hours spent perusing fish-tables; it is an altogether pleasant and nearly relaxing experience. Her nostrils flare and Shetani turns about quietly, tracking what was the suddenly-flaring scent of blood. Fish's blood, she thinks, and heads down a small side street.
The settlement is quaint and Shetani likes it, and if it weren't for her shaky reputation in some places (the Father's mistakes marked the daughter) she would likely stay there, settle in, and raise a small menagerie of various animals, but as it is she lives on her own, isolated, in the Hryst wilds. There are dangers there but those dangers are faced on a daily basis and mocked just as often; Shetani has just enough of a boost to hold her own against various monsters though her typical strategy is to cut and to run. She subsists off of it, and cowardice may be cowardice but Shetani is alive, isn't she?
Alive with the stain of blood often in her mouth when a type of creature struck her right; but Shetani can run fast, for enough time to pull away from the beasts that want her body for a meal. She stops before a vendor, looks down at the fish with a quizzical eye, and points quietly. "The price of one of those. The big finned one--yes, that one. How much?" Her head cocks and Shetani inhales through her nose, lets her back rock and her body pop up onto her toes. The girl adjusts the flower in her hair and smiles a little bit as the price is relayed, though she's sure the vendor is a little irritated; that fish is the freshest on the table, and as Shetani packs it into the basket full of ice, she moves on, following her nose through the marketplace, head bobbing slightly when she catches a particular scent; her head swings about and Shetani feels herself bristling up.
Something else is there, a strange, foreign smell, and Shetani furrows her thin eyebrows as she slinks close to investigate the unknown aroma; it's got a strange sweetness to it, which disturbs her; sweet usually means sick.
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Post by Gareth MacKay on Jun 12, 2014 22:52:32 GMT -6
Gareth was starving. He had spent two days on the road and had been eating sparse rations for the duration. It didn't help that the marketplace was full of food--fresh food--whose tantalization was only compounded when Gareth realized he was out of money--his goggles had broken before he left Domhan Tir, and that had to be fixed. And then the straps on his camel began breaking, and that wouldn't work at all, and he had fixed that once he got out of the Deadsands. He inhaled deeply, which was a mistake. The smell of fresh fish that permeated the village forced his stomach to call out in response, and he could feel the the sheer sound of it vibrate his skin. He had to finish this job, then he could eat.
He picked up his pace, tugging on the reign he had in his hand to hurry his camel along as well. He was eager to find this shopkeeper, supposedly the only fabric seller in this village. Some children began crowding around the camel--it was a rare sight to see a camel this far north, he supposed. Horses were far more common, but Gareth was not in such a luxurious business to own both a camel and a horse, and so he stuck with his spit-happy, halitosis-having friend. He, like Gareth, had a particularly transient stench about them: a little bit of the coal ash from Aster, some of the particularly sweet-smelling dirt and flowers from Domhan Tir, and a gritty kind of smell that he had picked up during an unfortunate encounter with a Forgotten on the way through the Deadsands underlay it all, giving his smell a rugged character. It had been a while since Gareth had had a bath--in fact, he couldn't remember the last time he cleaned himself. He instinctually wiped his eyes with his free hand in some vain attempt to look more presentable to the shopkeeper. He was supposed to deliver these Domhan Tir linens to one of the shopkeepers so he could get his pay, and then he could eat. Oh boy, was he going to eat.
He found the shopkeeper in the market, finally. It was surprising he took so long to find, given his enormous height. He always hated shooing children, but he had to remove the packages from his camel and it was hard to do with so many children running around underneath. "Here's your order. Two packages of linens from Domhan Tir. My friend and I didn't let anything bad happen to them," he said as he patted his camel's side. Gareth placed the two beaten leather rucksacks onto the table that was between them, loosened them, and began pulling out the fabrics. They were smooth to the touch, and definitely nice to look at, but they seemed just a little too fragile to Gareth. The shopkeeper began inspecting each one by bringing them up to his level--which seemed to be a story or two higher--and quizzically looking at them. He eventually gave his seal of approval to the lot and handed Gareth a bag of gold. He opened it, and giving the same scrutiny that the shopkeeper gave his cargo, counted it, before seeing that it was all there. Gareth quickly told the man when he would next be passing through Ers and they exchanged goodbyes before he took his leave.
Now he would be able to eat--the question was what. He quickly tied the bag to his belt, underneath his cloak and began walking. Children began gathering around his camel again. One got too close to one of it's legs, prompting the camel to give it a nice shot of saliva in response. He was a bit prickly, but a good camel to have around. They were kindred spirits, he supposed. "You've got to watch out for that. He is saying he wants some space." The child began to cry in response to the spit, but there really wasn't any other way to learn how to respect a camel's territory.
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