Trading Day (Open)
Oct 13, 2015 1:17:07 GMT -6
Post by Lil' Red Riding Loon on Oct 13, 2015 1:17:07 GMT -6
The slim brown figure continued on the path. She wore a light gray draped dress which was belted at her under bust. The pins at the shoulder that continued down her arms were light blue. Her pace could be called a grudging trudge, if it wasn't for the grace in which she walked and the poise in which she held herself. Even though she walked heavy, her bare feet rolled over the rough ground. She didn't trip over the uneven ground, or stumble over large twigs. Even though she walked so effortless over the forest floor, she was was still trudging.
There was a reason for the girl's trudge. Ain hated trading day. She hated the noises. She hated the smells. The people were rude and in her space. She found humans to be impatient and so loud. They rushed her on trading day. They wanted answers now! They wanted to swindle and deal, and come out better than how they went in. They wanted profit. When they first found out that she came to trade instead of buying with coin, many of them snubbed her. They wanted their profit, not more goods to get rid of it. However, when they found that goods Ain brought them sold quicker, others began to open up to trade with her. It was such a headache to Ain though.
Ain needed to go though. She was low on supplies. She was out of bread and wool for spinning. She wanted to see if there were any new dyes for her wool. Also, her cats needed milk. They were fine, excellent hunters. They took good care of themselves. There was constant proof of that when they left her little gifts around her cottage. Ain, however, loved spoiling them. They didn't expect anything from her, and she expected nothing from them but company. And for that company Ain was more than willing to trade some of weavings for creamy milk for them.
Thus, Ain continued her way to the closet village. She had been walking since predawn, with her ridged basket strapped to her back. While it was not heavy and Ain was not weak (even though she was slim), boredom had settled in hours ago. This boredom made her listless. Her thoughts wondered aimlessly, and she figured it was time for a rest. After all, she was near the tree she usually stopped at.
So Ain veered to her right and swung her basket off her back to rest against the tree trunk. There was nothing remarkable about this tree. Ain just happened to stop at it every time she went to this village, and she marked it as her last stop before she had do deal with people. Ain stretched out her arms above her head, before she started to rummage in her basket for some food and water.
There was a reason for the girl's trudge. Ain hated trading day. She hated the noises. She hated the smells. The people were rude and in her space. She found humans to be impatient and so loud. They rushed her on trading day. They wanted answers now! They wanted to swindle and deal, and come out better than how they went in. They wanted profit. When they first found out that she came to trade instead of buying with coin, many of them snubbed her. They wanted their profit, not more goods to get rid of it. However, when they found that goods Ain brought them sold quicker, others began to open up to trade with her. It was such a headache to Ain though.
Ain needed to go though. She was low on supplies. She was out of bread and wool for spinning. She wanted to see if there were any new dyes for her wool. Also, her cats needed milk. They were fine, excellent hunters. They took good care of themselves. There was constant proof of that when they left her little gifts around her cottage. Ain, however, loved spoiling them. They didn't expect anything from her, and she expected nothing from them but company. And for that company Ain was more than willing to trade some of weavings for creamy milk for them.
Thus, Ain continued her way to the closet village. She had been walking since predawn, with her ridged basket strapped to her back. While it was not heavy and Ain was not weak (even though she was slim), boredom had settled in hours ago. This boredom made her listless. Her thoughts wondered aimlessly, and she figured it was time for a rest. After all, she was near the tree she usually stopped at.
So Ain veered to her right and swung her basket off her back to rest against the tree trunk. There was nothing remarkable about this tree. Ain just happened to stop at it every time she went to this village, and she marked it as her last stop before she had do deal with people. Ain stretched out her arms above her head, before she started to rummage in her basket for some food and water.
