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69th Winter 510AV
Fallon kept her step fast. She had to keep on her toes in this city, she could not allow herself to slip up once. Slipping up could cause a multitude of problems. If she slipped up, they would know she could do magic. If she slipped up they would hunt her down, a true witch hunt. Her weak arms gripped around the supplies she had grabbed. She would no doubt have to make a second trip at some point, once her body had recovered. She glanced briefly, watching the crowd mull about in the winter light. She had to keep an eye on them, she had to make sure they were not one of them. That they were not working for him.
It was not safe here. Too many eyes, too many hands, too many mouths. If it was not them finding out about the magic, then surely it would be the hand of Sahova that would grab her. It was too soon to believe herself free just yet. The girl hoisted up the canvas of the tent, feeling the weight of it settle on her arms. The last few days had turned into a struggle, starved muscles being forced into life once more, aches and pains having to be ignored. All in the name of survival. Fallon gave a cough and dragged her feet onwards. She cautiously stepped round a group of men that had swarmed around a stall. There was the odd angry words here and there, accusations flying through the air, talking of being cheated out of their money. But it was not of her concern. She lowered her load for a moment at the side, catching her breath as she looked out across the docks. It was currently low tide, but even from this simple distance it was clear that the water was coming back in – and rapidly too. She placed a hand at her side before hauling up her things once more, feeling the strain of secrets that had been carved into her. She gave a grunt, and set her feet across the still planks, hearing the groan of wood beneath her.
How much further is is? she gave a heavy sigh This place is like a maze.
She felt the rough shoulder of another crash into her, pushing her to one side. She felt the grab of something, the pull on an article she was holding onto tightly. She saw the man who pushed past her turn his head as if dumfounded by the vice grip she had managed to produce. He gave a firm pull on what it was he was holding, and her form followed after the would be thief. Or at least until a hand shot out. She jerked away, instinct screaming at her not to be touched by them, though they still managed to. She felt the shove, her footing was lost. She watched the grey winter sky soar above her the weight of her load pulling her back. It was the definite crash of noise that marked her fall, the provisions that she did manage to get being ripped from her. By the time she managed to sit up though the thief was gone, and all she was left with was her more weighty articles and a distinctive bitter taste in her mouth.
“Petcher.”
It was not safe here. Too many eyes, too many hands, too many mouths. If it was not them finding out about the magic, then surely it would be the hand of Sahova that would grab her. It was too soon to believe herself free just yet. The girl hoisted up the canvas of the tent, feeling the weight of it settle on her arms. The last few days had turned into a struggle, starved muscles being forced into life once more, aches and pains having to be ignored. All in the name of survival. Fallon gave a cough and dragged her feet onwards. She cautiously stepped round a group of men that had swarmed around a stall. There was the odd angry words here and there, accusations flying through the air, talking of being cheated out of their money. But it was not of her concern. She lowered her load for a moment at the side, catching her breath as she looked out across the docks. It was currently low tide, but even from this simple distance it was clear that the water was coming back in – and rapidly too. She placed a hand at her side before hauling up her things once more, feeling the strain of secrets that had been carved into her. She gave a grunt, and set her feet across the still planks, hearing the groan of wood beneath her.
How much further is is? she gave a heavy sigh This place is like a maze.
She felt the rough shoulder of another crash into her, pushing her to one side. She felt the grab of something, the pull on an article she was holding onto tightly. She saw the man who pushed past her turn his head as if dumfounded by the vice grip she had managed to produce. He gave a firm pull on what it was he was holding, and her form followed after the would be thief. Or at least until a hand shot out. She jerked away, instinct screaming at her not to be touched by them, though they still managed to. She felt the shove, her footing was lost. She watched the grey winter sky soar above her the weight of her load pulling her back. It was the definite crash of noise that marked her fall, the provisions that she did manage to get being ripped from her. By the time she managed to sit up though the thief was gone, and all she was left with was her more weighty articles and a distinctive bitter taste in her mouth.
“Petcher.”