02-01-2015, 05:28 PM
She was wrapped up warm against the glacial winter; coat, gloves, hat pulled low over her head. A tail of mousy hair brushed over one shoulder, curled and nestled amongst a navy wool scarf that she'd loosened around her throat. She adored the rush and crush of people, the lilt of so many voices and accents; allowed herself to be swept up into the current, happy to move the with jostling. She found the bumps and apologies companionable more than irritating, perhaps because she was in no real rush.
She wasn't much of a cook, had neither the patience or the attention-span for it, but every now and then got it into her head to recall she really couldn't live exclusively on convenience food. Well, okay, that conclusion was reached with a little prompting from her sister. Eternally sensible Aylin, horrified at the sparse offerings of Thalia's fridge. Thal enjoyed the market anyway, and needed very little encouragement to lose herself in its press. Though she'd rather be looking at prettier things than vegetables.
She bartered cheerfully, spent more time chattering than truly bargaining a price at the various stalls. Not that she could really afford to be so undiscerning, but it was only pennies, and her mood was light. The Red Canvas had been collected by her patron, and with its absence a weight had lifted from her shoulders and a fog cleared from her brain. She felt unburdened, truly so, as she hadn't felt in months.
She wasn't much of a cook, had neither the patience or the attention-span for it, but every now and then got it into her head to recall she really couldn't live exclusively on convenience food. Well, okay, that conclusion was reached with a little prompting from her sister. Eternally sensible Aylin, horrified at the sparse offerings of Thalia's fridge. Thal enjoyed the market anyway, and needed very little encouragement to lose herself in its press. Though she'd rather be looking at prettier things than vegetables.
She bartered cheerfully, spent more time chattering than truly bargaining a price at the various stalls. Not that she could really afford to be so undiscerning, but it was only pennies, and her mood was light. The Red Canvas had been collected by her patron, and with its absence a weight had lifted from her shoulders and a fog cleared from her brain. She felt unburdened, truly so, as she hadn't felt in months.