Paige
Sure, her momma might have told her not to run off from Maeve and Locke, but she hasn't. Not really. She's just hiding. Auntie Maeve and Mr. Locke are catching up with a dark haired girl and she was bored just standing there. Especially when there were so many people around. So many shiny things to look at and take for herself. People drinking and playing and not paying her any mind. The perfect targets.
Paige sits crouched beneath a table, peeking out occasionally for a new target, finding plenty of pockets to slip tiny fingers into. She leans forward, eyeing the bag of a woman who seems caught up in looking at one of the tables, not noticing her as she slowly inches forward. Paige carefully edges her hand into the bag, reaching blindly for the first thing she can wrap her fingers around, preparing to dart as soon as she has something.
Paige sits crouched beneath a table, peeking out occasionally for a new target, finding plenty of pockets to slip tiny fingers into. She leans forward, eyeing the bag of a woman who seems caught up in looking at one of the tables, not noticing her as she slowly inches forward. Paige carefully edges her hand into the bag, reaching blindly for the first thing she can wrap her fingers around, preparing to dart as soon as she has something.
Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind
They count me out time and time again
They count me out time and time again
