A hunter and chameleon by nature, she burrowed into the fray of Port Blenham’s dock district to patiently await her mark. Ghylen’s prey in Roche Forest would have likely regained their senses by now. It had only been a week, or so she thought. It didn’t matter, they would eventually come. She was patient.
The bustling of the crowd and the danger that loomed for a young female didn’t phase her. The Fashwei were born to thrive in hostile environments. Never the aggressor, she would situate herself where she needed to be and get to work. To do so, however, she needed to blend in. She was very good at that.
“What’s that, little squirrel? Not sure that I’m catchin’ yer meanin’. Did you say permit?”
Confused by the reaction of the fruit merchant, Ghlyen repeated herself. “I wish to set up a stand, much like you have done with your fruit here.” Pointing to the wall behind the man, “And I would like to know where you obtained your permit to do so.”
“Ha! I thought cha said permit! Well let me tell ya somethin’, you’re too late for permits, little squirrel. There’ll all taken up! Here be honest folk who thrive in the chaos of the docks. And have done fer a long time.” The sweaty fruit merchant stared her up and down. “Jus’ look atcha. Dressed up like some forest ranger with yer pan pipes strapped to your back. What’s someone like you gunna sell anyway? Music and smiles? I think y’best be scampering along to the upper quarter. We gotta enough music down her’ and not the type you blow outta pipes. Take yer perty little black n’ green braid and scamper along. You’re bound to find trouble down here that you aren’t askin’ fer.”
She had almost had enough of this fool and could snap him in half in three twists. Best not to cause a scene, she thought. The man knew not what he was getting himself into.
“Trouble?”
“Ya, you know…boys havin’ too much to drink. Wantin’ to sample your wares and play with yer braids. Get my meanin’?”
Two kicks…one to the inner thigh, the second to the throat. Patience.
“No. I am afraid I don’t”
“C’mon…a pretty little squirrel like you don’t belong down here with us adults. Scurry along now. Don’t want to get your fluffy little tail stepped on.”
Casting aside the merchant’s chides, she pressed him, “Might I purchase one of these?”
“Huh? You want a watermelon?”
“Yes, I do.”
“A whole one?”
“Is there another way to purchase a watermelon that I am not aware of?” She could not believe how stupid this fool was.
(cont’d…)
Needless to say, Ghylen rocks my socks. I really enjoy how her tone/voice gets into the narration throughout this section – and can’t wait to learn more about her!