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Sophia the Thunder Mistress · 07-21-2003, 02:19 AM

Iswyn watched Deol walk away, sighing slightly. The morning had been so much fun, an opportunity she didn't get often enough. And Deol, well... he was very nice. Gently placing her small bouquet of flowers in the basket on top of her purchases, Iswyn set off slowly back toward Hamish's shop. The look on Deol's face and the speed with which he left told Iswyn that it was long after the time that she had agreed to meet Talan. She vaguely hoped he'd waited and pushed her steps a little quicker, pulling the basket in toward her chest.

Ducking between the small shops, carts, and booths, Iswyn took the shortest path through the market, realizing that in her lighthearted wanderings with Deol that she'd been walking away from her meeting place. Talan she wasn't worried about, only she had hoped that he would carry the basket, as her arms ached from its weight; but her real concern was Bethberry, that the inkeeper might be disappointed with her. The girl bit her lip, walked even a little faster, her skirts catching around her ankles and threatening to trip her.

A voice brought her out of her purposeful silence. A male voice, slurred with drink. Iswyn froze in her tracks for a moment as she felt fingers close around her wrist. "Whazza pretty girl like you doin' all alone at market?" The man was dirty, greasy grey hair falling across his face, and the hand that gripped her wrist was dry and strong, smudged with dirt. Iswyn tugged at it, but didn't break his hold.

"I'm meeting someone, friends, I'm in a hurry..." she protested, beginning to panic a little. He pulled her closer, until Iswyn could smell the stale beer on his breath and in his clothes. She dropped the basket she was still clinging to, and watched as the contents tumbled out on the ground, the little bag of cloves spilled into the dust. Bethberry's spices...

"I'm not gonna hurt you!" The man continued, in an exaggerated hurt tone. "I only wanned to make sure you was alright." Iswyn pulled back harder, blinking back tears. If he wanted her to be all right, why wouldn't he let go of her hand? "Come sit on my lap, sweetie, like my little girl used to, and then we'll go find your friends."

[ July 21, 2003: Message edited by: Sophia the Thunder Mistress ]

07-21-2003, 02:19 AM	#107
Sophia the Thunder Mistress Scent of Simbelmynë Join Date: Apr 2002 Location: Aboard Highwind, bound for Traverse Town Posts: 1,780	Iswyn watched Deol walk away, sighing slightly. The morning had been so much fun, an opportunity she didn't get often enough. And Deol, well... he was very nice. Gently placing her small bouquet of flowers in the basket on top of her purchases, Iswyn set off slowly back toward Hamish's shop. The look on Deol's face and the speed with which he left told Iswyn that it was long after the time that she had agreed to meet Talan. She vaguely hoped he'd waited and pushed her steps a little quicker, pulling the basket in toward her chest. Ducking between the small shops, carts, and booths, Iswyn took the shortest path through the market, realizing that in her lighthearted wanderings with Deol that she'd been walking away from her meeting place. Talan she wasn't worried about, only she had hoped that he would carry the basket, as her arms ached from its weight; but her real concern was Bethberry, that the inkeeper might be disappointed with her. The girl bit her lip, walked even a little faster, her skirts catching around her ankles and threatening to trip her. A voice brought her out of her purposeful silence. A male voice, slurred with drink. Iswyn froze in her tracks for a moment as she felt fingers close around her wrist. "Whazza pretty girl like you doin' all alone at market?" The man was dirty, greasy grey hair falling across his face, and the hand that gripped her wrist was dry and strong, smudged with dirt. Iswyn tugged at it, but didn't break his hold. "I'm meeting someone, friends, I'm in a hurry..." she protested, beginning to panic a little. He pulled her closer, until Iswyn could smell the stale beer on his breath and in his clothes. She dropped the basket she was still clinging to, and watched as the contents tumbled out on the ground, the little bag of cloves spilled into the dust. Bethberry's spices... "I'm not gonna hurt you!" The man continued, in an exaggerated hurt tone. "I only wanned to make sure you was alright." Iswyn pulled back harder, blinking back tears. If he wanted her to be all right, why wouldn't he let go of her hand? "Come sit on my lap, sweetie, like my little girl used to, and then we'll go find your friends." [ July 21, 2003: Message edited by: Sophia the Thunder Mistress ] __________________ The seasons fall like silver swords, the years rush ever onward; and soon I sail, to leave this world, these lands where I have wander'd. O Elbereth! O Queen who dwells beyond the Western Seas, spare me yet a little time 'ere white ships come for me!