The moon she is lurking, the clock it stopped working
At a quarter past three
At a quarter past three
Flowerbirth has thus far been rainy and muddy, but today is a remarkably clear day. Set on the heels of a week straight of rain, the blue, sunny sky is a welcome reprieve. Callum strolls idly through Kaiholo Port, his hands in his pockets, blue eyes flicking this way and that. He's always on the lookout for trouble, and today is no exception. He's seen two pickpockets already, and though neither managed to grab a purse or lift a wallet under his watch, he's under no illusions that they won't keep trying.
Gulls reel overhead; merchants shout out their prices. It all blends together in a cacophony unique to the Port - and it's always been oddly comforting to Callum. Some people prefer the peace and quiet of nature, but give Cal a city any day.
Besides, it's easier to buy and sell in a city than in the country, and today, Callum needs to do the latter. He carries a tote bag filled with old clothes. Some are in pristine condition. Those he can sell to secondhand shops along the Port or in Haulani. Others are a little more threadbare, but they're still in good enough condition to donate. It's something he does every new year: cleaning out his closet, getting rid of the old to make room for the new.
The mercenary pauses beside one stall that looks promising, then spends a few moments haggling. When he turns away, there's a victorious sheen in his eyes, a few more coins in his pocket, and a few less clothes in his bag.
Gulls reel overhead; merchants shout out their prices. It all blends together in a cacophony unique to the Port - and it's always been oddly comforting to Callum. Some people prefer the peace and quiet of nature, but give Cal a city any day.
Besides, it's easier to buy and sell in a city than in the country, and today, Callum needs to do the latter. He carries a tote bag filled with old clothes. Some are in pristine condition. Those he can sell to secondhand shops along the Port or in Haulani. Others are a little more threadbare, but they're still in good enough condition to donate. It's something he does every new year: cleaning out his closet, getting rid of the old to make room for the new.
The mercenary pauses beside one stall that looks promising, then spends a few moments haggling. When he turns away, there's a victorious sheen in his eyes, a few more coins in his pocket, and a few less clothes in his bag.
There's something dancing here in the shadows
And I wish it were us
And I wish it were us
Callum
