Timestamp: 89th of Winter, 512AV Rosela lay in bed for a moment, staring at the sunrise through the dingy window. It was starting to warm up in the last few days, and she was enormously grateful. Her first winter in Riverfall had dragged on far too long, and she was ready for a warm sun again. What was on her mind at the moment though, was a conversation she’d had over a season ago – with Leo. She’d adjusted her winter lineup accordingly, but spring was nearly upon her and she needed to prepare the new line. The women’s line would be easy, as always, but her newfound knowledge of what would really sell in Riverfall made the men’s side much more interesting than it used to be. Sighing, she heaved herself out of the creaking bed and stretched all six arms above her head. Wool would be out; cottons and linens in. She’d sold her supply of fur cloaks, but the sweaters would have to either go into storage or be broken down into vests or…well, that was it. Nobody did sweaters in the spring. Maybe she’d keep a few on hand for cold day emergency shoppers. She wished she could just reuse what was leftover from the fall line, but the colors simply would not do. Sighing deeply, she pulled herself from her plotting and cut out some bread for her breakfast. She paused and looked at it for a moment before taking a slow, thoughtful bite. She’d gotten so used to this life that she was no longer instinctually balking at the destitution of her daily activities. The realization bothered her, and she mowed through the rest of the bread quickly. This state of life was temporary, and in no way could she be comfortable with it. The shadows under the table and behind the chairs watched her quietly, as they always did, much kinder than the shadows in her shop. ”I’ll be rid of this life soon enough,” she said to them, eyeing them sideways, expecting some manner of disagreement. There was a noise of interest, but no reaction either way. More likely they didn’t care. ”Will you still be here when I trade this place in for a mansion?” “We are everywhere." Their response was matter of fact, as though she were pitiful for having to ask. |