07-25-2013, 12:07 PM
The market stretched as far as Nadia could see down the long street before her. Each side was lined with any sorts of things you could imagine. Here, a hawker called of the finest silk anywhere to be found, spun in the very heart of District III and handwoven to ensure that every thread... There, a hobbled over old lady selling home made sweets, little amber colored sugar drops in a little bag... there, an ally full of chickens, of all things, with a man in front scrambling up omelettes for hungry diners who ate on simple bamboo mats at a low table... It was quite the sight to see.
"Stay close, Zoe, and if we get separated, lets meet at the omelette table, okay?" Zoe nodded enthusiastically and immediately began tugging her mother over to the sweet stand. After a couple of dollars were exchanged for the little bag, they made their way a little further down the thoroughfare.
The milling of all the bodies down the busy market was a common feeling for Nadia, though the particulars of the location were new. She had lived in cities her whole life. She was accustomed to taking in a person at only a glance and being a fair judge of safety. Of course, there were always devious pickpockets with a smile on their face, but even for those, she knew most of their tricks. Growing up in a privileged life may coddle some, but Nadia had made a point to be out amongst people and had always had friends from some of the less savory social classes as a child.
Now, watching Zoe eye a few boys starting an impromptu football match up the road, she could feel the beginnings of the same dread that must have clutched her mother's chest each time that Nadia herself "wandered" into the streets. I am NOT my mother. I will NOT make her mistakes. Who was she really trying to convince, though. No one knew who her mother was here in the big city, in the Central Dominance. She was another nameless face, albeit a pretty one, and no one had any expectations for her or her daughter, and if people cared to judge her for being a single parent, well, there was nothing she could do about that. Zoe would be starting into school the following week and she would be just as well dressed and better educated than most of her classmates.
Nadia stopped to observe a street performer juggling very sharp looking knives. She watched with fascination for a moment as deft hands snatched blades from the air, sometimes tossing one behind his back and spinning them in ways where you think it would be impossible to catch safely, yet each time he did. "Hey do you see this Zo--" Her voice cut off as she looked around to realize that the dark haired girl was suddenly no where to be seen. "Zoe?!"
"Stay close, Zoe, and if we get separated, lets meet at the omelette table, okay?" Zoe nodded enthusiastically and immediately began tugging her mother over to the sweet stand. After a couple of dollars were exchanged for the little bag, they made their way a little further down the thoroughfare.
The milling of all the bodies down the busy market was a common feeling for Nadia, though the particulars of the location were new. She had lived in cities her whole life. She was accustomed to taking in a person at only a glance and being a fair judge of safety. Of course, there were always devious pickpockets with a smile on their face, but even for those, she knew most of their tricks. Growing up in a privileged life may coddle some, but Nadia had made a point to be out amongst people and had always had friends from some of the less savory social classes as a child.
Now, watching Zoe eye a few boys starting an impromptu football match up the road, she could feel the beginnings of the same dread that must have clutched her mother's chest each time that Nadia herself "wandered" into the streets. I am NOT my mother. I will NOT make her mistakes. Who was she really trying to convince, though. No one knew who her mother was here in the big city, in the Central Dominance. She was another nameless face, albeit a pretty one, and no one had any expectations for her or her daughter, and if people cared to judge her for being a single parent, well, there was nothing she could do about that. Zoe would be starting into school the following week and she would be just as well dressed and better educated than most of her classmates.
Nadia stopped to observe a street performer juggling very sharp looking knives. She watched with fascination for a moment as deft hands snatched blades from the air, sometimes tossing one behind his back and spinning them in ways where you think it would be impossible to catch safely, yet each time he did. "Hey do you see this Zo--" Her voice cut off as she looked around to realize that the dark haired girl was suddenly no where to be seen. "Zoe?!"