We need to be out of control. We crave it.

Ariadne · 01-25-2012, 12:45 AM

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Word Count → 265 :: Yey! Erin stinks at starting threads! XD

Ever since the first night she had come to the festival with the other occupants of Hillsburn, the Grecian had been drawn back here. It wasn't exactly like walking around a bustling trading port, but it was the closest she was like to get for now. Ariadne wasn't often a creature of sentiment, but she did miss her life on the trading galley. She missed the open sea air and joking with the rest of the crew and haggling with other traders about their wares whenever they made port. This quaint little festival made it feel like she wasn't so very far away from what her life had been—it helped to dull the ache.

The problem, though, was that thrice-damned Damianos had barely left her with anything and so she really didn't have anything with which to trade. Surely she could get some good items for her jewelry, but that'd be the equivalent of chopping off her hair or her tail as far as the Cretan was concerned. Especially her necklace. Someone would have to steal that from her corpse for she would never part with it willingly.

So while the bustle and crowd was a comfort, the trader in her itched to be making deals and bargains and she was painfully ill-equipped for anything of the sort. This was especially disappointing when she came upon a stand littered with jewelry, beads, and other such shiny objects. Glimmering things were undeniably one of Ari's vices and she looked wistfully at the vendor's wars, chocolate-dipped fingers fiddling with the golden snake adornment on her arm.

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