Timestamp: 20th of Autumn, 513AV
As often happened, Rosela was in the back room of the shop on her day off, working on her inventory. Autumn was in full swing, meaning the whites and airy blues of summer needed replaced with bolder colors in the red and brown spectrum. The leaves were already starting to turn, giving the city a darker, more mature look.
One hand shifted through her box of odds and ends, looking for a nice broach to hold together the plum purple halter-top dress currently spread out on the table. She'd just finished clipping the stray threads from the new hem and was holding the straps to the bodice manually.
"Nothing here..." The shadow inside informed her, and she tilted the box up so the contents slide to the front. The box was as empty as it had been becoming all season, reminding her she needed to visit Garob for a new supply.
Sighing deeply, Rosela stood, stretching all six arms widely. She was stiff from sitting anyway, and a walk would do her good. Garob was a sweetheart besides, and though he wasn't her type, it was nice to speak in her native tongue for a change.
The walk across town was indeed refreshing, and she felt lighter by the time she arrived at the Terra Cottage. She'd never been a fan of terra cotta herself; something about the color of the red clay drew a curl of disdain in her and threw her back to young memories of the Ahantep market, walking past the poor stalls with their ugly bowls and jugs.
Snapping back to the present with a start, Rosela shook her head to clear the memories and walked in. The smell of clay immediately assaulted her, and she wrinkled her nose before reminding herself to keep a more pleasant face. Looking around, she didn't immediately see the familiar head of red hair. "Hello? Garob?" She called in Arumenic.
As often happened, Rosela was in the back room of the shop on her day off, working on her inventory. Autumn was in full swing, meaning the whites and airy blues of summer needed replaced with bolder colors in the red and brown spectrum. The leaves were already starting to turn, giving the city a darker, more mature look.
One hand shifted through her box of odds and ends, looking for a nice broach to hold together the plum purple halter-top dress currently spread out on the table. She'd just finished clipping the stray threads from the new hem and was holding the straps to the bodice manually.
"Nothing here..." The shadow inside informed her, and she tilted the box up so the contents slide to the front. The box was as empty as it had been becoming all season, reminding her she needed to visit Garob for a new supply.
Sighing deeply, Rosela stood, stretching all six arms widely. She was stiff from sitting anyway, and a walk would do her good. Garob was a sweetheart besides, and though he wasn't her type, it was nice to speak in her native tongue for a change.
The walk across town was indeed refreshing, and she felt lighter by the time she arrived at the Terra Cottage. She'd never been a fan of terra cotta herself; something about the color of the red clay drew a curl of disdain in her and threw her back to young memories of the Ahantep market, walking past the poor stalls with their ugly bowls and jugs.
Snapping back to the present with a start, Rosela shook her head to clear the memories and walked in. The smell of clay immediately assaulted her, and she wrinkled her nose before reminding herself to keep a more pleasant face. Looking around, she didn't immediately see the familiar head of red hair. "Hello? Garob?" She called in Arumenic.