Word Count → 000
'Yes', Io said, her voice unsurprised. Both countrymen would be able to tell the otherwise similar accents from each other in a way that no other could. Shrugging the satchel from her shoulder she pulled out a book from it. It was writting in English, to Io's annoyance. Sometimes she misread things, not because she didn't understand, simply because the writing sometimes confused her. Especially late at night.
Then the woman spoke, about the niceness of the kitchen. Something Io had to agree on, it wasn't anything compared to the emporium they had in Cesarski, but it was something. 'Yes' she said softly, taking out another scrap of paper and a short pencil. Running her index finder under the words as she read them, Io proceeded to scribble down what she needed. But not in English. Never in English.
The woman spoke her name, Valinta. Finnish or something. Io knew various things about names, this was one of them. With all the information written down, she stood, sliding the book back into her bag. 'Io', she said this with a breif smile, nothing more, or less, than usual. 'I am looking for some things, ingrediants' she said, surveying the stocks carefully.
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