Oh there ain't no rest for the wicked,
Money don't grow on trees,
I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed,
There ain't nothing in this world for free.
Money don't grow on trees,
I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed,
There ain't nothing in this world for free.
With the man's rejection, Selene's world seemed to close in around her further, and she pulled at the straps on her chest, loosening the tight bodice in a vain attempt to dispel the tight knot of tension that had formed in her breast. It took her noticeably long to realise that he had not, in fact, left her to fend for herself, and was instead offering a helping hand to lead her away from the crowded docks. She stared at the hand for a moment, brows knitted together with apprehension, choosing to slip her hand around the crook of his arm instead; it would be far easier to escape that way if he were to reveal himself as a villain.
"Caoimhe." That was the name that slipped out of her lips when he asked, as it always did to those she traded with, it had practically become second nature to her. His pace was slow, forcing her to walk at a slower speed than she would have liked - preferably a sprint, far away from the bustling crowd- but she was unfamiliar with the lay of the land, and therefore had no choice in the matter.
When he inquired as to her wealth, and how she came to possess such trinkets, she nibbled on her lower lip. She had heard of how men would commonly hold young women for ransom, threatening harm, or worse, unless their fathers paid for their freedom. "My father is a tradesman. I was captured with goods on me, and I came upon that portal in my escape from their dungeon." It wasn't entirely false information, after all, her father was a tradesman, albeit a legitimate one, and she had been captured with goods on her, they just didn't belong to her.
As they moved away from the relative quiet of his stall and through the bustling crowd, Selene became meeker, drawing close to the man's side in a display of entirely uncharacteristic shyness, desiring nothing more than to get away, but having no choice but to stick to her guide. So, she just kept her head down, and her mouth shut, drawing her hood further down over her eyes and allowing her mind to drift into happier avenues, entirely dissociating from the world around her.
"Caoimhe." That was the name that slipped out of her lips when he asked, as it always did to those she traded with, it had practically become second nature to her. His pace was slow, forcing her to walk at a slower speed than she would have liked - preferably a sprint, far away from the bustling crowd- but she was unfamiliar with the lay of the land, and therefore had no choice in the matter.
When he inquired as to her wealth, and how she came to possess such trinkets, she nibbled on her lower lip. She had heard of how men would commonly hold young women for ransom, threatening harm, or worse, unless their fathers paid for their freedom. "My father is a tradesman. I was captured with goods on me, and I came upon that portal in my escape from their dungeon." It wasn't entirely false information, after all, her father was a tradesman, albeit a legitimate one, and she had been captured with goods on her, they just didn't belong to her.
As they moved away from the relative quiet of his stall and through the bustling crowd, Selene became meeker, drawing close to the man's side in a display of entirely uncharacteristic shyness, desiring nothing more than to get away, but having no choice but to stick to her guide. So, she just kept her head down, and her mouth shut, drawing her hood further down over her eyes and allowing her mind to drift into happier avenues, entirely dissociating from the world around her.
Selene
