39th Day of Winter, 512 AV The Docks Late Afternoon There wasn't much traffic today of sailors or their ships. Men and women were still coming and going, and ships still sailed in the waters, but it could almost be called eerily quiet in a way. Compared to how lively it usually was. She was sitting on the ledge of one of the docks, her tail dangling over the side and above the smooth waters. Tiny waves slapped quietly against the large beams holding the dock up, and she watched a fisherman's boat glide by. A man rushed past, back toward the city, nearly knocking her into the water. When Leas turned to watch his retreating back, he was already almost to the other end. People seemed very antsy today. She had an uneasy feeling in her stomach, like there were waves in her insides, tossing around her gut. There was something going on. It's none of your business! She grabbed her backpack and pulled it closer, into her lap where she could hug it close. Something of her own to anchor her thoughts. Another boat glided by, this time to port. The tiny crew shouted and worked with the multitude of ropes rigged to the sails. Sailing was a terrible way to get around. She'd grown up with the Svefra and had always hated any time she was stuck on deck as a youngster. If only all humans could swim as well as she could. That was one of the few things she was proud of. Humans had the land, but she had the sea. A seagull squawked and swooped down to land on a post nearby. It peered at the dead crab lying next to her. Dinner. "Shoo! Sea crow! Find your own food. You'll get nothing begging from me." The gull cried out again and flapped away, startled by the volume of her voice. Sky rats. Leas had many a meal stolen by birds throughout the years. She hated them. Paranoia of the gulls goaded her into starting on her meal, though she wasn't quite hungry yet. She picked the rock crab up to examine the shell. It hung limp in her hand; its eyes seeing nothing. With an expert twist, she snapped one of its legs off. Crab meat was like slimy goo when uncooked, so Leas had to hurry and stick the leg in her mouth before any dribbled out. It was almost like water, but it would fill her up well and be good energy. Not that she'd need any energy today. It was almost like Zeltiva had gone into a coma. Just on time, another sailor rushed by, this time to a small ship. She ducked out of the way when a package he was carrying nearly busted her in the head. "It seems that people aren't too keen on apologies," she said loud enough for the retreating figure to hear. There was no answer. Leas scowled and tossed the empty crab leg into the water and opened her backpack, fishing around for her brush. The wind was tangling her hair. While she gingerly worked on the small snarls of curls, her eyes glazed over. It was always relaxing to brush her hair out, just like her mother used to do for her when she was a little girl. Leas couldn't help but hum the song her mother had always sang when they sat in the cabin of their casinor together. Toward the end of the song the sound of footsteps pulled her from her private little world. It was the man with the package, but he wasn't carrying anything anymore. He was heading back to town, still in a rush. But this time he didn't nearly trample her. Leas sniffed daintily, turning her nose up at him. That's right, she thought. Show some respect. Then things got quiet again. People came and went, but not in a hurry. A lone woman in a little rowboat waved to her as she passed, heading to some unknown place. Leas sighed and looked down the dock toward the city. Her heart lept up in her throat from what she saw first. The man looked tall and thin as a rail. His robe made his body look like a shapeless black mass. It was a matte black fabric, soaking in sunlight but reflecting nothing back. A long, birdlike mask covered his face, like an ibis or perhaps a crane. It was as white as if it had been bleached, and stood out from the rest of his wardrobe like a beacon. It was one of the most intimidating things she'd ever seen. But the man didn't stop for a beat; he swept out of one street, crossed her line of sight, and disappeared behind another building. There and gone in a flash, but a chill ran up her spine that Leas knew wasn't from the winter breeze coming off Mathews Bay. Something was going on, and she wanted no part of it. Then again, a raging curiosity had suddenly bloomed inside her. So she stuck her rock crab in her pack for later and slung it over her back, wiggling back up onto the dock so she could reassemble the rolling chair folded on the boards beside her. Time for some recon. Not like I have anything better to do with my time. |