Don't Speak, Just Listen and See (open)

[shatteredlungs112]

Thyme Mocker walked slowly toward her destination with only the sound of snow beneath her feet to keep her company. The light, crunching of dead plants that have been frozen for quite some time rang to music in her cold ears. She watched each time her little foot took another step forward in a rhythmic pattern, always constant with a count of two between each step. One, two, step... one, two, step... on and on through the white snow that, from afar, appeared to be sugar on the ground. When the wind blew, some of the snow would pick up and dance on the waves of the breeze as the only ballet Thyme had ever come close to seeing.

One, two, step... one, two, step... she sauntered on. Her thin legs were tired and cold, as were her graceful hands that clutched a basket of goat cheese that she was taking to attempt to trade for any sort of meat to make a broth. A shiver ran through her as wind picked up snow and blew it straight on her. It felt like a harsh whip that Thyme never wished to really feel, unlike a few unlucky people who got on the Peacekeepers last nerve. The whole action horrified her every time she saw it. Thyme would stand there, watching, her eyes holding back tears, fearing that if she let them go then she too would be whipped. Just thinking of it now forced her to shake the very thought from her mind. She had to stay focused on the task at hand, and push through the snow to reach the traders place.

That was the only way she knew it... the traders place. Even as an eight year old girl, Thyme never thought to find out the real name that everyone called it. It would always be the traders place to her, and it would be the only place outside of her home or class room that she would ever speak to anyone. Her full, light pink lips hardly ever spoke a word, and most people just let her be. The only way it really hurt her, was that she had no friends. It wasn't that she didn't want any friends, though. No. Thyme longed for a friend, but what would she say? How would she respond to anything that person would ask of her, or tell her? Really, Thyme never knew exactly what to say. It was loss for words that kept her hidden and alone. Silent, but always watching, listening, and really seeing.

The snap of a twig behind her had Thyme spinning round and round, her long, dark braid of frail hair whipping around her; her hazel eyes wide with fear. With a sigh of relief, Thyme found that it was only a little bird not far off from her. It tweeted a short tune she felt she recognized, so made up her mind to hum it back. The bird tweeted it once more before flying away. Thyme turned on her heel and began to walk once more, now slightly more of a skip. One, two, step, one, two, step... and as she skipped in time with the song she'd heard, Thyme hummed the little tune to herself. Her arms swung at her sides as thin vines would, but she was careful to not let the contents of the basket spill out to the ground. After a while of this, however, Thyme's weak body became tired and she needed to rest desperately. Not caring for her simple, cotton dress or coat, Thyme tightened the coat around her and sat down on the driest spot she could find on the ground.

Setting the basket beside her, Thyme observed all around her, finally noticing what she had missed as the snowy ground had passed beneath her feet. The sky was a grayish blue and thin little clouds rolled by, though slower than honey from a jar. The sun hid behind the winter sky, not showing much of itself, but still producing enough light for the day. Every once in a while, a bird would fly across the sky, maybe two if Thyme was lucky enough to see. Seeing those birds reminded her of the little one that had hummed a tune to her earlier. Smiling slightly, Thyme hummed the tune to herself and thought the words in her mind. Her thin, cold, graceful fingers traced shapes out in the snow to pass some time, and she found herself content with her surroundings. Laying back into the snow, Thyme made a quick snow angel, standing carefully afterward so as not to destroy it. The snow angel was just as thin as she who made it, and Thyme pondered this. Her hand reached up behind her right ear to touch the little birth mark in the shape of a clove. To this, she allowed herself to smile.

Picking up her basket, Thyme continued to walk to the traders place with her one, two, step... rhythm slowed back to the way it had been at first. As she walked, Thyme felt the wet of the snow on her back dry slightly, which would be good so that no one really knew that she had been playing as a child would in the snow. When she reached the traders place, Thyme was almost completely dry, so no one would notice. It was warmer there where she stood in the traders place, and scents of goods to be traded filled the air so heavily, Thyme almost turned and walked away. But then she thought of her sick mother, hard working father, and little sister Layce. They needed the broth she would make to store and help last them the winter months.

Biting her bottom lip, Thyme began to walk around to find a stand that would provide her with what she would need. A few kids ran around, chasing each other in play. Others were the ones working, but it was mostly adults. Some of the people, Thyme even recognized from school, though, being who she was, Thyme didn't open her lungs to say hello. No. She decided on not speaking, unless spoken to, today. As she went on with not speaking, her ears listened and her eyes saw. Listening with her ears, Thyme heard people laughing and joking, while others whispered things too soft for her to make out. Some spoke business with one another, trying for the best deal possible. Seeing with her eyes, Thyme saw people moving, some in a blur, others in slow motion. The people in the blur were in a hurry as far as she could tell. Those in slow motion had no where the needed to be at the moment, so they lingered in places for a few minutes before being shooed away. Then they would move on to a new spot, always seeming to know right where they were going.

Her eyes saw, her ears listened, and soon enough, Thyme found a stand that was trading all cuts of meat, from the ribs to just the fat. Slowly, Thyme approached the stand and waited until the first person was finished getting what they wanted. Even though it was trading, no one ever got that much. In District 12, you were lucky to get anything from the traders place. You had to have something of value to the other person. Usually it was easier to trade cheese for some bread, Thyme knew, for they used cheese in some of their recipes. Now, cheese for meat was a whole other story.

"Hello," said the man at the stand. He smiled down at her with his thin, chapped lips. His eyes were healthy as was he. The man wasn't horribly thin, but rather slightly pudgy. In District 12, if you were anywhere near pudgy, they might have considered rewarding you. The man's dark hair was cut short and in curls on top of his head. Gray eyes stared down at Thyme, as her piercing hazel eyes stared back. The one thing she couldn't get over was his ear size. His ears were long and stuck out of his head, and Thyme could imagine him flying with those ears.

Holding back a laugh, Thyme muttered a greeting. "I would like to trade some of my goat cheese for any cut of meat good to make broth." The man raised one thick eyebrow at her in question. His lips turned down from his smile and became serious. "Oh really?" he asked. "Yes, if you please sir." Thyme could tell he was holding back a laugh when he nodded and turned away. When he faced her again, hew as holding part of a cow bone that had some meat still attached to it. The piece wasn't large, but Thyme decided that it would do, considering she needed it. "How much do you have?" he asked her. Carefully, Thyme set the basket on the counter and removed a cloth that covered the cheese. The man looked from her to the cheese, his eyes full of amusement, but the rest of his expression was serious and calm. "This here bone weighs about... I'd say five pounds? Do you have about five pounds of cheese?" Thyme thought about the weight of the cheese in her hands, and how in school she had been taught how much one pound weight versus ten. The latter weight of the cheese was somewhere toward the middle so she nodded. "Yes," Thyme answer in a small voice that was barely audible. The man smiled. "Well then..." He emptied the cheese out of the basket carefully into a container. Then slowly and skillfully, he wrapped the cow bone in cloth and placed it gently in the basket. "Here you go miss. Enjoy." Thyme took the basket and smiled. "Thank you," she said then turned and began to walk away.

The place had gone crowded in the short time she had traded. Thyme wrapped her coat around her tightly, grasped the basket with all her might and plunged on. She could feel every bump and bruise she earned for walking further and further. After a while, Thyme lost sight of the exit of the place. Sighing, Thyme found a wall and sat down against it, exhausted. She decided to wait until the place had cleared before leaving. All the while she didn't speak... just listened with her ears and let her eyes see. Her eyes saw people she knew, and people she didn't. The people she knew and saw, Thyme didn't know if they knew her, for she was quiet even around them. She let her ears hear their words when they were near by.

[Kyalee]

(Can I join? My charrie is named Dusk Gold )

[itzcrazykk]

(Faith, I'm gonna have my charrie join as soon as she get accepted, I promise!)

[shatteredlungs112]

(Kyalee, yes you most certainly may!
kaykay, okay! Can't wait. )

[Kyalee]

(btw this color is normal
This color is thoughts
and this color is dialog.)

____________________________________________________

It was blistering cold as Dusk Gold stepped out from her shabby house. Inside the house it had been cold, but not as cold as this. Dusk now felt foolish that she had actually been uncormfortable and hungry in the house, because compared to outside, the house was an oven on full power. Dusk imediatly felt the familiar shaking of her body in the harsh weather. The wind whistled through the abandoned alley.
I should get going, moving will keep me warm.
Dusk quickly set off down the street, her worn out boots splashing in the dirty puddles. She was numb, on the inside and outside. Yes, its true the cold hurt a bit and then almost turned her hole arm numb but she didn't seem to notice. Her father had came back, and for that she was grateful. But nothing was the same. Her mother's soft love that once held her family together with a strong bond was now gone. Our father's cold grip was now the only bond we could make, and he made sure that it was firm. In despair, Dusk just followed her father's orders. At first, it was painful stealing and lying to people. But not as much as a beating from her father.

Now Dusk was numb from all of it. The numbness was like a shield, so she wouldn't have to deal with the guilt and worry. Now as she walked down the fresh snowy path to the market that numbness stood in her heart like a block of ice. Soon she could hear the sounds of busy merchants and the haggling of prices. The smell of stale smoke hung in the air, most likely from the torches and those who could afford to smoke cigars. Her goal was to steal atleast a chicken leg so her siblings could eat. She also needed another leg for her father.
Well that should be easy... The meat man seems to be busy arguing with a rude customer.
The meat man was arguing with a frusterated rich man. Dusk had come at a perfect time.
"No I will not put up with these, these perposterous prices! The quality of these products aren't even that great! Look at this steak! Probably weeks old!"
"Ill have you know my prices are just fine and the quality of these meets are the best out of the hole District! Maybe even the best in all Panem!"
Coming up casually beside the two men, she pretended to be looking at the quality of the whiskey in the stand next to her target's stand. Suddenly the fight seemed to come to a climax, the meat mans face bright red. She couldn't believe her luck when the meat man came from behind his stand to confront the man. Quickly, before time ran out, Dusk grabbed a dead chicken by its neck. She ran out of the market area and sat behind an snow oak tree. Huge gusts of fog escaped her mouth has she strived to catch her breath. In triumph she held the chicken which was now in her possesion. From the noise in the market, the fight was still going on and nobody had saw her sneeky grab or quick escape.

Her body tempurature was now dropping once again, losing heat she gained from inside the market, and while running away. Dusk let a small half laugh half sigh come out of her worn lungs. Her grey eyes seemed to gleam as she thought of how proud her father would be.

[itzcrazykk]

Beth Tait

660033 – General (Body)
d65c5c – Thoughts
e56e94 – Speech (Dialog)

[/color]

As I woke up to the chirping of the birds outside my second-story window and the light of the sun reflecting off of the snow and into my window, a short little verse came to me. It almost had no words, but as I lay in bed looking at the ceiling, the words came to me. With her broken wings she tries to fly, breaking free of the chains she is bound by, she was hidden in secret a long time ago, the whisles have saved her, allowing time to pass and flow. These thoughtful words had just given me the idea for another song I was not going to let anyone hear. I would play it on my old guitar, maybe write it out a little more, and then I would burn all evidence of the lyrics ever existing.

So, as I sat up on my bed and removed the covers from the space I had just lain in, I grabbed a pencil and a peice of paper and wrote the lyrics down. It was only after I had sang them quietly aloud that I stood up and started preparing for my day.

"What shall I wear today?" I asked myself as I looked into my several drawers and my closet full of nuetral colored clothes. Since that was all I weared, I went to the extreme to get the best looking clothes in colors from white to brown and black. The smell of freshly baked bread wafted up the stairs from the bakery on the first floor. I smiled at the scent and knew that I would be having a nice dinner that night. That was more than most of the people in the district could say.

In the end, the battle for hunger beat out the battle for fashion in my head and I grabbed the first white skinny jeans I found, a white button up top and beige floral flats. Once I had gotten downstairs, my mother gave me a cinnamin roll filled with butter and sent me out the door with a basket full of plain rolls and loafs of plain bread to sell at the Hob. On the way there, I babbled to myself in my mind. If the boy from next door were still alive, would we be together? I wish I had died too. Nobody likes me, anyways. Well, those girls from school like me, but they really are just very blunt bitches. I guess I am too. It was strange, how fast my thoughts went from the dead boy to be being a bitch. It scared me.

I was almost to the Hob when I started eating the buttered roll. It was very tasty. The raisins were always my favorite. Though I only got this type of roll so often, I would always wake up each morning and hope to whatever higher power existed that I would receive a cinnamin raisin bagel.

I had finished the roll when I reached the Hob, and inside there was a frackus. There was a boy in the middle of it who was apparently trying to break it up, but it wasn't really working. So, taking it upon myself to try and distract the crowd that was slowly gathering, I yelled, "Freshly baked bread! It's still warm, too!" Some people turned their heads, but some still focused on the fight which seemed as if it were about to turn ugly.

[Devin]

SMOKEY SABER

There were worse places to winter than in district twelve. Colder places, where the wind was so frigid at night that you would swear your bones were frozen solid. Places where people froze to death rather than starving to death the way that they did in district twelve. In December in this part of Panem, at least the air wasn't quite as frigid as it was in the northern districts. But Smokey had never been to the northern districts, and all he knew was that he was cold. The thin material of his jacket wasn't enough to really keep him warm when there was no coal for a fire in the Saber home in spite of the fact that they were the coal mining district. Producing the coal hardly meant that they got to use it. After all, their people weren't as useful as the people of the upper districts, the districts that produced materials for the Capitol. Diamonds, though they were made of the same carbon as coal, were far more valuable than the produce of District Twelve, which meant that the lives of the people of District Twelve were valued as less important than the lives of the people of District One, and so on and so forth.

The Hob was at least warm, and Smokey let himself in, rubbing his hands against one another for the friction that would create its own heat. The crowd itself provided a lot of the heat, the building trapping the body heat into the area, but the wood-burning stoves and ovens doing the rest of the work. The ever-present scent of sulfur and carbon permeated the air, but above that were the tantalizing odors of cooking foods, stock simmering where women boiled down bones to make soup bases, the scent of vegetables that had been canned in the fall now being added to the same soups, fresh bread and the faint odor of white liquor and piss. It was all glorious, and Smokey breathed a heavy sigh of contentment as he stepped in through the doors and made his way toward the back of the building where he could set up and find a spot to hang out with some of his friends, cracking jokes and bringing general good cheer to the other traders.

He was on his way when he nearly tripped over a basket that belonged to a dark haired girl who was sitting against the wall, looking lost, or perhaps a bit trapped. For a moment Smokey could do nothing but blink in surprise, but then he crouched so that he could look into her eyes and pull her coat a bit more tightly around her. She seemed so small, so underfed, and he wished that he had something to give her, though his pockets were, for the moment, as empty as hers likely were. He sighed, then reached out a hand. "Ya need some help?" he asked her, raising both of his eyebrows as he ran his left hand back over his dark hair and glanced around him to see who else was nearby and what was going on around him. "Come on. Let me help you up. I was gonna go to the back an' just hang. Tell some jokes. What's your name?"

And they might have made it into the back of the Hob when he heard a commotion behind him, two men racing after a little blonde girl with piercing eyes. He stood up sharply, his hand catching in the darker girl's coat and potentially jerking her to her feet as he turned his head to look after the younger one. Instinctively, he stepped between her and the men who pursued her, then cleared her throat. "Howdy there gentlemen!" he said, though neither of them appeared to be gentlemen at all. One was overweight and balding while the other looked as though he'd gotten half of his dinner spilled down the front of him. "You're just the men I came to see!" Where he'd go from there, he wasn't sure, but improvisation sometimes worked. Didn't it?

[Kyalee]

Dusk looked back at the Hob, hoping nobody had followed her. Fear ran through her viens, and she was ready to jump up and start running again, hood covering her face, when she saw the two men running toward her. But then, a dark haired boy got in their way, and started talking to them. She couldn't make out the muffled voices, but she knew they were talking by the massive amounts of fog coming from their mouths. She still was in the position to run when finally the boy led them back inside. Dusk sighed in relief. She smiled at the chicken she had gained, and put it in her bag. She wished she could say thanks to the boy, but it would be dangerous to go back. Too dangerous.

Dusk headed off home. A blizzard was coming, but she had to feed her family, so she kept on, and hoped this was just the worst of it. Her face was burning in the cold, and the wind made frightening noises as it looped through the trees and played with Dusk's hair. As she progressed, she was sure to cover her tracks, incase the meat man decided to give chase. In this weather, she could only move so fast. Finally, she made it to her street. Hope welled up in her of a warm, toasty house to go to. Soon warm food would be in her belly also. Her fingers tingled not only from the numbing cold, but in excitement. She ran down the street, and was almost to her door when she slipped. The road was slippery, she almost forgoten. Less excited than before, she got up slowly. Dusk then opened the door to her home. It was warmer than she'd though it would be. Her siblings surrounded her as she dropped the chicken on the table, grinning widely.

"Dad, I'm home! And look what I've brought- Dinner!"
Even though Dusk knew her father was drunk by the smell of his arrival, she still glowed at her prize chicken.
"Look what Dusk brought Daddy! Look what she brought!" One of Dusk's siblings said. Maybe this winter wouldn't be so bad. Maybe times would start to get better. Dusk's dad entered the room carrying a glass bottle that was half full of whiskey. He looked like he hadn't shaved in awhile, and smelled of stale achohol and vomit. His eyes had bags under them, and he looked 10 years older than he was. He stumbled over to the table and looked at the chicken. Dusk tingled in pride, not being able to wait on how proud her father's look would be when he gazed at it. It took awhile for his normal drunken look to disapear from his face, but when it finally disapeared, it turned into a frown.

Uh oh. Not what I was expecting.....

Dread crept into Dusk's blood as she watched her father intently.

"This is it?" Her father said in a rough, scratchy voice.
Dusk's face showed nothing of the pride before now, only disapointment.
"Well, yes father, I thought I acutally did pretty-"
"What! Pretty good?! This could barely feed all of us for a day!"

Dusk stumbled on what to say. She was mostly just shocked, she was hoping for once her father would be proud of her.

"Well maybe I could go steal more-"
"If you have time in your busy schedule, you should." Her father snapped at her. Close to tears, Dusk left with her back again. The cold welcomed her, Dusk wanted to feel numb. She wanted to forget all things.

Gota get more food, just go steal more.

She ignored the dangers of going back, she didn't care anymore. She was determined to impress her father. She ran back to the market, her grey eyes as fierce as ever. Dusk's blonde hair glittered in the torch light, and she hung in the shadows, trying to find her next target. The dark look on her face just made her blend in with the shadows more. She took precaution in avoiding the meat man's stall. She would have to steal some vegetables. Dusk waited patiently for the perfect time to strike.

[itzcrazykk]

(I think from now on, we need to have a posting order. It would be smoother that way.

How about:
Faith (Red Lungs)
Kyalee
Devin
K (moi))

[Kyalee]

(sure I guess.)

[shatteredlungs112]

(( Sorry it took me so long... I haven't been home and when I was, I was forced to be social
And KayKay, since Kyalee has posted twice so far, it should be Me, Devin, you, then her, unless you insist on be last and having a posting order in the first place.
And Please, Please, Please post in third person.))

Thyme was surprised when a boy walked up to her, leaning down to her eye level. Her green eyes were full of fear, yet they could pierce the very skin of anyone if possible with their color. But the way he looked at her, eyes full of... pity?... made a shiver move up her thin spine. The defensive part of her cringed away some from this boy that now was only a few inches away from her. Her mind told her to stand her ground but then the other half cried out for her to run. Trying to block out fearful thoughts, Thyme ran through words of a song in her mind to calm her. All the while, her eyes observed this boy, questions of who he was popping up in her head. He didn't seem totally underfed, but it could be the way he crouched before her. "Thyme," she said in a low whisper to answer his question about her name once she had understood. "Thyme Mokker."

Jumping slightly, she realized he was talking to her, words whizzing by her ears. For a second, Thyme could just stare. When she had finally opened her mouth, however, a little blond girl ran, being chased by two thugs. Before she knew it, Thyme had been jerked to her feet by the boy, biting her tongue in the process. The copper taste of some blood hit her taste buds, and she sucked in her cheeks to cease the slight bleeding. Once again the boy began to speak words that she barely seemed to hear any sense in. The only thing she heard was the sound of his voice, and it annoyed her. Then he hesitated, or at least as far as Thyme could tell. Shaking her head she tried to think of something, and fast.

"Yes, yes," she said as loud as her lungs would allow, which should be enough for the men to hear. "We needed to see you about your... goods that you are selling." Thyme almost shook her head at how ridiculous it sounded, words actually leaving her mouth. Her eyes darted to look at the boy, of whom she could still not place a name to. Trying to keep her voice from shaking, she continued. "My friend here is in need of something you have." The whole lie was killing her, mainly because she had no idea what these people sold, or even if they sold anything. By the way they were chasing the blond child, they had to have been... which mean she had to have stolen something from them. It might have been wrong to steal, but the girl had appeared thin, maybe a little less than Thyme herself, but still.

The two men looked at each other and then back at her in confusion. Thyme found herself nudging the nameless boy for help as she had helped him in a loss of words. "What now?" she asked him under her breath so that only he could hear. Shivering as a gust of wind passed by, Thyme pulled her light jacket around herself even more tightly, and tried to prevent her teeth from chattering. The chattering of her teeth always made her feel like it made her appear a skeleton because of her size. Some hair from her braid had fallen loose and whipped around her face, and she had to tuck it behind her ear so that she could see clearly. Snow crunched beneath her feet as she fidgeted in place.

[Devin]

((OOC | I'm really sorry I've been gone guys. The flu is now ripping through our house if you would believe it, but if I get stuck again like this I'll post to skip me. I'm really sorry. I should be back now and this is shaping up to be really interesting. Thank you for waiting, and thanks kk for letting me know I was up! Oh, I also just lost 500 words of a post here so this might not be at par. Sorry.))

SMOKEY SABER

It could have been a lot worse, Smokey thought to himself, though he wasn't sure how it could be all that much worse. The girl next to him, Thyme, was shivering, and he thought the cold from the snow had to be seeping into her shoes and chilling her to the bone. He swore that if he listened he could hear her teeth chattering, and he shook his head imperceptibly, thinking that though he was made for winter weather and he was used to it, not everybody was. Building up a resistance to the wind took time, and he'd spent the time necessary to become used to standing out in freezing weather. Without thinking, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders if she would accept it, then turned toward the two men so that he could try to figure out what they were going to say. He understood Thyme's question and he wanted to give her an answer, but he was flying by the seat of his pants, and he had no idea.

The two men in front of them were intimidating enough though. One of them, the fatter of the two, and taller, had a smear of what he had to assume was pig's blood across his cheek, clinging to the stubble of three day's growth of beard. There was a stench coming off the man, the smell of herbs and of blood and rotting meat. It was all he could do not to wrinkle his nose in response, and when the man wiped at his nose with the back of his hand, trailing snot over the surface of his hand, Smokey had to bite back the bile that rose in his throat. He swallowed, grey eyes darting over to look at the smaller, skinnier man. This one held a butcher's knife in his left hand, stained with blood that caked against the man's hand in a couple of places and that glistened wetly against the blade, which looked rather dull. That knife could do a lot of damage in a slow and painful way, and Smokey only hoped that he didn't start swinging it so that the peacekeepers were attracted. One small blonde girl rushing out of the Hob would be enough to get the attention of the peacekeepers, but throw in a knife and you were talking about bad news.

Okay, so it could have gone better as well. The skinny man stepped toward him, forcing Smokey to take a step back. He reached for Thyme's shoulder so that he could try to pull her back with him, but his fingers slipped over the texture of his coat and he just managed to tug at her before he was looking back up at the men. He cleared his throat, then offered the men a cheeky smile. "You see, gentlemen, I needed a pair just like you for my act. If you want to follow me back to the stage at the back of the Hob, we can get you started!" If he had money on him he might have offered to buy some sausages, or maybe the chicken that the girl had stolen, but his pockets were empty as usual unless he got some tips tonight from the show. If the men wouldn't come with him then he was going to be out of luck and risk being found out as a distraction for the girl who had run.

[itzcrazykk]

Beth Tait

660033 – General (Body)
d65c5c – Thoughts
e56e94 – Speech (Dialog)

Beth watched as the boy stopping the guys chasing after the blond girl comes up with a stupid excuse to get the guys to stop chasing the blond girl. It was something about a performance. What a stupid idea! She thought to herslef as she sold the last plain roll to a very hungry looking couple. Maybe she was dumb in doing what she was about to do, but did that really matter?

As she put her gloves back on, Beth walked two feet closer to the frazzled guys and stood there, listening to what they were saying. Those guys didn't buy the boy's act. So, Beth being Beth, she walked right over and said bluntly, "She stole your chicken." Seeing the red faces of the guys, she quickly made up and excuse for the girl. "I'll bring you guys bread tomorrow to pay for anything she has stolen in the past week." It was instict to be blunt and rude, sure, but it was also instinct to stand up for people who she needed to stand up for.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the wind pick up and snow started to blow in through the doors. A subtle chills crept up Beth's body as she stood there, talking to the guys. The snow drifted over to where they were standing and

Almost done!

[Kyalee]

(your so lucky Devin! You got in the games! congratz)

[shatteredlungs112]

(( Okay I'm just going to start replying because I really don't want this thread to die. Hope that's okay with everyone else? ))

Thyme tried not to roll her eyes at the boy just giving her his coat. But she accepted it and pulled it tight around her shoulders, and tried to force herself to stop shivering. She listened at he tried to say that he needed them for an act. It was a very sad attempt to save their butts, although she was sure that her efforts hadn't helped. By the looks on the faces of the men they weren't buying it at all. Thyme licked her full lips nervously, waiting to see what they would do. Maybe they would start going after her and the boy for helping the girl. That gave Thyme an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach but seeing the girl... all she could think of was her own little sister. Although Layce was younger, she was still probably just as desperate for food as the girl who'd run away from the men.

As if out of the clear blue sky -- well not exactly clear or blue -- a girl came up to the men, saying the full truth of what the young one did and that she'd pay them in bread until the expenses of what she stole were paid off. What is she doing? Thyme thought. She might piss them off even more. But she kept her thoughts to herself. The girl was blunt and completely rude, which sort of pissed Thyme off. Yeah, she was helping, but she didn't have to be rude about it. She could have easily talked it out, while nixing the tone of voice.

The wind seemed to also be getting stronger. Thyme could almost smell the possibility of a blizzard in the air. She wished for a way to tell time around here, but because the sun wasn't anywhere in sight, she could only guess that it was getting late. But there wasn't much she could do about leaving, not with this mess on her hands. The harsh wind whipped a few loose ends from her braid and snow nibbled her nose as it danced on the breeze. Thyme's eyes closed for a second against the wind but then reopened so as to stay alert to what was going on around her. No matter how bad she wished she could just disappear again, she knew she couldn't.

Thyme looked at the boy, and tried to think about what he'd said about an act. He'd almost seemed really serious about it as well. Like he really got money out of entertaining people, despite the harsh winds and poor times. Thyme tried not to think too much on it, but then she wondered what he did do. Most people, once they got to a certain age went to go work in the mines like her father did. Very few actually held jobs outside of that. The girl who had offered the bread seemed to be one of them. Maybe a baker's daughter she thought. But what of this boy? It was then that Thyme really realized she didn't have a name to put to him.

Under her breath, so quiet, she wasn't sure if anyone could hear she asked "What is your name?" She almost laughed at herself for even asking. "I know its cruddy timing considering the circumstances, but... I gave you a name." Plus Thyme was sure that this would really be the only time for her to ask while the other person was dealing with the large men that still seemed pretty steamed. Then again, they might actually take the girl's offer of bread. Especially if it is warm. Thyme's mouth almost watered over the thought of fresh bread, but she quickly removed the though, reminding herself that she had no money for that sort of thing at the moment.

(( Might add on to it depending if KayKay finishes her post. ))