Maeve
Maeve didn't often trek into the jungle. To be frank, she tended to avoid it like the plague. It was no place for someone like her. Except she was out of the mud she used for one of the facemasks she made for the other girls at the brothel and her usual provider was no where to be found. Hence why she was even bothering with this. So with some of the only adventuring type clothes she own donned and a shovel and pail in hand, she made her way to the Wishtide Waterways intent on gathering her own.
Already the heat was starting to make her hair cling to the back of her neck and her temples as her skin grew damp with sweat. Finally, she heard the sound of running water and approached carefully, stepping from rock to rock to avoid the uneven terrain. Completely unaware that she wasn't the only one here.
Already the heat was starting to make her hair cling to the back of her neck and her temples as her skin grew damp with sweat. Finally, she heard the sound of running water and approached carefully, stepping from rock to rock to avoid the uneven terrain. Completely unaware that she wasn't the only one here.
when you are not fed love on a silver spoon
you learn to lick it off of knives
you learn to lick it off of knives
