I'll drown eventually so don't save me
Glaring sunlight on an excess of water turned the start of the new season into a muggy affair. Where Flowerbirth had been pouring, Longheat promised to be just that, with a high humidity that rivaled Torchline at it's worst. Normally Maea would be hiding indoors, away from the heat and glaring sun, but it seemed her tolerance to fire carried over to sunlight. For the first time in her life, she wasn't burning to a crisp. Her hair might be a rats nest of curls and her clothes a mismatched affair of whatever could be scrounged from neighbors and samaritans, but at least she was able to sit outside in the light, arms and legs bare and practically glowing in their starkness.
A cool breeze rose up from the sea, cooling her bare feet and tickling her toes. Maes had placed herself cross-legged on the span of the bridge to watch for a carriage on the way back to the Inner Quarter, and she kept herself busy mending clothes while she waited. Some for her, some for the family of fishers that let her borrow a room while she helped with clearing the docks at the Landing, and some to trade for the ride. Picking over the seam of the trousers one last time, she bit off the thread and set them aside, neatly folded, to pick through the pile of scraps one more time. Maybe she could make something new...
Her back was to the east, keeping her eyes shaded. This time of day the traffic would be slow; she would be there for a while. Plenty of time to kill.
A cool breeze rose up from the sea, cooling her bare feet and tickling her toes. Maes had placed herself cross-legged on the span of the bridge to watch for a carriage on the way back to the Inner Quarter, and she kept herself busy mending clothes while she waited. Some for her, some for the family of fishers that let her borrow a room while she helped with clearing the docks at the Landing, and some to trade for the ride. Picking over the seam of the trousers one last time, she bit off the thread and set them aside, neatly folded, to pick through the pile of scraps one more time. Maybe she could make something new...
Her back was to the east, keeping her eyes shaded. This time of day the traffic would be slow; she would be there for a while. Plenty of time to kill.
Maea
