Shijara was getting cursed in a language she did not understand. The dark hair woman stood defiantly, hands on her hips, "Excuse me?" she shouted, her common thick with Eyktolian accent, fueled on by her anger. By nature, Shijara had the patience of a saint, if not proven by her encounter with a drunken Svefra two days prior, but this man? No. He was a liar. He was greedy. He was a.... "Awahtoklo!" She attempted to snatch back her sketches, ones she had drawn of the port and of the docked ships, but this man had grabbed them, claiming they belonged to him, as her latest drawing had been of his vessel. What did he plan to do? Sell them? They were just amateur drawings done on the textured paper of her sketchbook. A sketchbook that had been given to her by her family before she had left her tribe. That book meant far more than his ugly ship and her rendition. If anything she had made the structure look more regal than it actually did, leaving out the barnacles and salt damaged boards. "Awahtoklo!" Greedy. He who leaves none for the crows. Shijara stared into the man's muddy brown eyes, and could smell his grim. She went to snatch the book back but he held it high above his head, taking full advantage of their height difference. This man was a regular human, not an Akalak, but her short frame still made it difficult to reach without jumping and embarrassing herself. Instead of doing so however, she felt her frustration building up. She pulled back and threw her tiny fist into the man's stomach. His breath was knocked from him, and he doubled over, making a sound of surprise and pain. Shijara had never really hit anyone before, especially a stranger and her eyes widened at her own actions. Still, she took full advantage of the situations and grabbed her heirloom back. Then, she ran. Unfortunately, she didn't make it far before some of the man's other crew members saw what she did and started pursing her. While the scene had gotten some attention, Shijara didn't want to stick around to allow herself get caught. She used the port's activity to her advantage. Spring meant more trade, and more people out and about doing business. She jumped, dodged, and weaved in and out of people, heart racing. Her mind was going a thousand miles per hour. Did she break a law? Stealing wasn't allowed, but the item had belonged to her. The harassment of women and children was not allowed... She struggled tor remember the other rules that had been on the paper provided to her at her arrival to Riverfall. She yelped when her wrist was grabbed and she flew backwards, rough hands grabbing her arms. She dropped her sketchbook and felt herself being dragged savagely. "You petching brat!," She felt herself being thrown over a bony shoulder and she kicked, hitting her captor in the back. Her struggle was futile. She cursed the man in Tawna, looking up to see Akalak men approaching. They looked angry, concerned. She thought she caught a glimpse of Sonnet, her guardian among the crowd. They were going to help. Unfortunately, when she looked behind her, the man had moved to the end of the dock and when he shifted his weight, she knew he was planning to throw her into the water. A deep fear gripped her, and she froze. Her whole body was tense, and she could feel the panic beginning to seep into her bones. She couldn't swim. |