The markets were always bustling at this time. Megara was able to weave her way through, her steps lightly skipping causing her to bob and turn to avoid other patrons. Smoke plumed behind, dancing alongside the elf’s dark waves. Usually she’d have it braided, kept it in check and away from any bloody injury but today errands had to be run, supplies restocked. The clinic she supported served those who couldn’t always pay, who’s name, if given, could have guards at her door. Old Coterie habits die hard, Meg had always moved in strange, not often legal circles.
Of course Sylaise had a request.
[color=#aaaaaa]Boba? [/color]
[color=#008e02]“Yes, after we find some seedlings. Our reward.” [/color]
The thrum of approval the elf felt from the spirit caused her to chuckle, a grin forming around the nib of her pipe. The ache between her ribs had felt eased these few years since finding the soul. Scars had healed over, but the residual pain still made some days difficult for the elf, her smile struggling to feign contentment. She had an objective though, well, two now. Seeds and boba. Her pace quickened, skips became more exaggerated until everything stopped abruptly.
She’d have missed it, if not for the wind. Even though there was no whiff of a breeze to be felt. A faint wave of sense lapped against her, called to.. No… not to her. To Sylaise. Her back grew straight, the bounce all but replaced for rigid poise. Pausing for a few beats, Meg would soon push on with muted skips.
[color=#008e02]“Did you..?”[/color]
[color=#aaaaaa]Feel that? Yes. It was too faint to make out though. [/color]
Of course Sylaise had a request.
[color=#aaaaaa]Boba? [/color]
[color=#008e02]“Yes, after we find some seedlings. Our reward.” [/color]
The thrum of approval the elf felt from the spirit caused her to chuckle, a grin forming around the nib of her pipe. The ache between her ribs had felt eased these few years since finding the soul. Scars had healed over, but the residual pain still made some days difficult for the elf, her smile struggling to feign contentment. She had an objective though, well, two now. Seeds and boba. Her pace quickened, skips became more exaggerated until everything stopped abruptly.
She’d have missed it, if not for the wind. Even though there was no whiff of a breeze to be felt. A faint wave of sense lapped against her, called to.. No… not to her. To Sylaise. Her back grew straight, the bounce all but replaced for rigid poise. Pausing for a few beats, Meg would soon push on with muted skips.
[color=#008e02]“Did you..?”[/color]
[color=#aaaaaa]Feel that? Yes. It was too faint to make out though. [/color]
08-21-2023, 05:02 PM
