by Thaedael » Tue Jun 25, 2013 2:32 pm
It was a weird feeling to her, an experience yet tasted in sixteen winters of survival. She had heard rumors, the hushed whispers of her people, talking about the great cities of mankind that stretched endlessly over the country side. She hesitated, shifting in her seat, the buzz of so many people echoing off the hallowed city hall's walls. Deafening, strange, captivating... On the back of one hand she continued to tap a simple arrow, the human's version seeming much straighter, more true in form, much sharper than the ones she made. Flipping it in hand, she traced the head of the arrow with one gloved finger, impressed by the precision of the metal work. It was a good buy, trading furs for a quiver's worth of arrows as good as these. Continuing to tap it at the back of one hand, she turned her head, her cloth covered face marking her completely as an outsider from the every day operations of the city, of their traditions, cultures, and society. Yet something had drawn her here, the feeling filling her, like rolling static across the cloudy sky, she was attracted to those that had felt the same way she did, attracting her own unfocused powers. She was oblivious as to why so many people were gathered here, coming on a whim fueled by wanderlust, curiosity, and adventure. Elsa smiled a simple smile under the scarf that wrapper around the bottom of her face mask, wrapped around the seams of where the mask met the rest of her clothes. She was happy to see the sights, smell the smells, and hear the talking, feeling as equally strange from being away from the woods as she was excited.
Cautiously, she placed the arrow back into the quiver, bringing up the count to three score and ten, her simple tanned leather seeming like an anachronism to the arrows that she kept in them to those that sat around her. She could feel their eyes on her, the wonderment on their faces, she was sure it was there, but she didn't look at any one person directly, pretending that if she didn't see them, they wouldn't see her. She knew it wasn't the case, this wasn't her environment, and she stuck out. She chewed at her bottom lip, her nervous twitch thankfully hidden below the mask of cloth that would keep her face warm in the harsh winters of Ruiina. Yet here, it was the mask she hid behind, her security, and a keep-sake of her own culture and traditions, a part that played, in no small amount , into making her the person she was. She clutched the bow in hand, the smooth worn wood putting her nervousness back in check, so that mostly her own excitement could be felt. The arrows, the three new... what were they called? Javelins? They were good, and she would use them well over the coming years, but there were no bows she could find that she liked. None that could be made better than her own. The merchant tried, embolden by the sale of a quiver's worth of arrows and three javelins, but no crossbow, or even regular bow would beat a long bow from the north. She loosened the grip on her bow sliding it back into the tanned leather of her holder, a simple loop for leather holding it on place against a thicker piece of hide, additional loops below it now holding the three short javelins. Surely three was excess, she thought to herself, but she could leave the two at home while hunting with bow, using only one. It did not matter, and once more she snapped her attention away from the gear that had distracted her so.
She found herself dead center in the middle of the crowd, impatient at what she felt would surely be some climatic event. She could sense that there were those in here, that were also not native to these lands, their mannerisms, their clothing, even the way they spoke setting them apart. Surely something good would come of it? She fidgeted in her seat, continuing to look about, debating whether or not she should just stand up and leave.
