The market was busy that day, Drykas and others hurrying around to find and purchase their goods. It made it easier for Merevaika. The only problem it made was the extra eyes, but most didn't look where they didn't need to. Most didn't pay attention to the young Drykas woman, for there many out. One more didn't draw their attention.
She needed a knife. She had been needing one for a long time, but the money had never come. Not from her own pocket anyway. Besides, it was certainly cheaper to take it without payment. Merevaika knew she could do it. Or hoped so anyway.
There was a small stall that specialized in knives. Long sharp blades, small thin pinpricks of them, the merchant stocked them all. The woman had her eye on the most simple, blade the size of her hand, handle poorly decorated.
She longed to take a prettier one, handle beaded or coloured. But the more extravagant, the more expensive, and if she took it, the need the merchant would have to have it returned would be greater. And the nicer the knife, the more unique it would be. No one would believe her if she had the exact same knife as the one stolen. As the unique one that was taken.
She needed a knife. She had been needing one for a long time, but the money had never come. Not from her own pocket anyway. Besides, it was certainly cheaper to take it without payment. Merevaika knew she could do it. Or hoped so anyway.
There was a small stall that specialized in knives. Long sharp blades, small thin pinpricks of them, the merchant stocked them all. The woman had her eye on the most simple, blade the size of her hand, handle poorly decorated.
She longed to take a prettier one, handle beaded or coloured. But the more extravagant, the more expensive, and if she took it, the need the merchant would have to have it returned would be greater. And the nicer the knife, the more unique it would be. No one would believe her if she had the exact same knife as the one stolen. As the unique one that was taken.
