A Place Where the Children Played {Open}

[Ptero]

I am done with my graceless heart
So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart
Cause I like to keep my issues drawn
It's always darkest before the dawn

As the sun rose above the factories pouring smog over the horizon, Elkie turned her thoughts from her work and to the pink trees of her day dreams...

There was a place where small trees rose from the ground with dancer-like grace, a place that had not green leaves on the branches, but pink flowers that flew off in the breeze, flowers that smelled brilliant but subdued at the same time. It was a place that had rolling hills that turned into climbing mountains, painting the landscape a blue that was a few shades darker than the cloudless sky. At the top of the green hills, families would go on picnics with children who wouldn't go hungry tonight. Before they left to return to their homes, the children would play among the trees, soaking in the warmth of the sun and the sweet smell of cherries. They would hear the chirping of crickets as the day chilled into night and know it was time to go home. Elkie had to imagine places like this existed sometimes.

Elkie continued to stare idly at her best friend's chest, more precisely the painted bone necklace the hung down to her collar bone. It was a thing of absolute beauty. Painted on the surface, which was a rounded piece of an animal's pelvis about the size of Elkie's hand, was one of the pink trees depicted in her fantasies. The blossoms were painted delicately and precisely, the colors blending pleasantly. The trees themselves reminded her of the garishly bright dancers the Capital had for entertainment, but despite their color, they were softer somehow. Elkie coveted many of Crista's belongings, this necklace among them. Staring at it helped begin the day dreams that made work, hunger, and her life much easier.

Elkie stood at the back of the butcher shop her family owned. Her knife was still, having forgotten its job of cutting the deer placed before her when Crista had come in to the back room. She sat in the corner, on the floor with her grey skirt sprawled out around her, sewing something that would likely be for sale in the tailor shop within a day. Sighing, she returned to her work. Her muscles ached from the repetitive activity, the slicing of her large knife through the animal's flesh. The smell of the deer that still hung in the air made work difficult, as it always did, but it was not enough to make her quit. The risk of starving prohibited it.

After roughly an hour the same activity, as the sun was nearing the center of the sky, Elkie finished. With her arms numb and wobbly, she walked to the front room. It was a small room, about ten feet by ten, with a tall table on the right with a cash register so ancient she imagined it was more rust than metal. There was a window in the front that took up the majority of the wall, that revealed a second, longer table with varieties of meat that Elkie's mother and brother had hunted and she and her father had chopped. Crista had disappeared to her own shop, and she had dismissed her father from work to go barter for food to feed themselves. Elkie was alone to ponder her own thoughts and listen to the structure of the butchery settle into the earth. When she was alone like this, she could afford to listen to the ticks in her head. Check the back room... Check the back room... Check the back room. She listened to the thought, running her hand along the wooden walls of the shop, counting the wooden boards as they drifted past her finger tips.

Elkie walked into the room, checking to make sure... well, she wasn't sure why she was checking. It just felt like something she needed. It was still in perfect order, a table to the left with blood stains and a small collection of knives and the meat hanging to cure in the back of the room. The smell of wet wood and the aforementioned blood hit her nose, a putrid scent that she wanted to get away from. She turned and walked back to the front. She put one foot in front of the other, counting the steps back to the table where she would barter with customers.

... Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. Elkie frowned. She didn't know why, but the steps had to be divisible by the number five. Unhappy with the seventeen steps she'd taken, she walked back briskly to the back room, turned around, and faced the front. She walked forward again, making her steps just a fraction larger. ... Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Perfect.

Elkie smiled, pleased by the number and the compulsion fulfilled. She sat down on the stool placed before the table, waiting for someone to come. Someone had to want to bring home something to eat, and something from the butcher shop was as good as any other place. She glanced toward the window, lined with food that was going to turn if it wasn't sold within a few days. The scent carried towards her, and she scrunched her nose in disgust. She hoped someone would come to relieve her of the carcass that she had chopped herself and made pretty. Waiting for that someone to come, she closed her eyes and imagined the place with the beautiful pink trees; Elkie imagined a place where the children played.

[Nocturnal]

Aritha Dyle

Aritha, her signature scowl placed threateningly on her face, made her way across town. To run whatever errands she needed to before she got home; not that anyone would notice. Did it matter though? She was doing this as much for herself than anyone else. She had to eat, and it wasn't like her brother was going any where soon. Or her parents, who had full time jobs working at the factories. Technically, she should have been there, but she had gotten someone else to take over her shift with a word from her brother, whose reputation and charisma still hadn't faded, it appeared.

The meager amount of coins she'd been able to get from the family food-money jar jangled with each step. She fell into a rhythm, feeling them pound out a beat against her leg. Was it just her imagination, or were they actually talking? Freak. Failure. They repeated themselves endlessly, and no more than she could bring herself to stop actually believing them, could she stop moving. Hiding her face in a thick layer of hair, the girl tried once more to avoid the harsh glares of those passing by. She could feel the coin's message flitting through their minds as they passed the queer little girl who never talked, and kept her head down.

Removing the fierce expression that had rested on her smooth skin, the girl felt the deepening worry lines that had started up around her eyes go flat again. It wasn't any good to keep that act up since no one could see her face any more. Sighing almost inaudibly, Aritha continued looking straight ahead, even though her hair blocked her vision. A small pothole sent her sprawling, her careful composure tossed to the wind, arms flailing to catch on to anything. Her hair swung forward, temporarily blinding herself with her own clumsiness. Stupid feet. She was always tripping over them these days, embarrassing herself even more than she did with day to day life. Then again, this was becoming a daily occurrence.

Even subconsciously I don't want to be doing this, she thought grimly before gathering herself back together. Taking a few deep breaths. Shoving the bits of flyaway hair behind one of her slightly pointed ears. Patting her pockets to make sure everything was still there, listening to the now familiar clinking of metal against metal. It sounded just slightly off, something she wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't been listening to the same monotonous sound screaming at her the entire way. A gleam of silver caught the corner of her eye as a middle aged man bent down and picked it up for themselves. Instead of thinking what a selfish man he was, instead of blaming him, Aritha shoved her hands deep into her pockets and just kept walking, looking down at the ground this time. She had been an idiot for tripping in the first place, she deserved to lose part of her portion for dinner. They'd be able to buy just that much less now. Joy. That was always something that made the family love her.

Maybe if she could barter? No, it was better to just take the price they gave you. It was generally fair, wasn't it? Still, if she could bring home the same amount...What, they'll stop ignoring me? Yeah right. I can be average instead of being below par. Snorting gently, the girl realized that she was standing just outside her destination. The housing had been getting generally nicer, and more elaborate as she dived deeper into the merchant area of district nine, but none of it particularly pretty. The same grays and blacks and browns she was used to clogged up the world around her and pressed in on all sides. But she was used to it.

Shrugging off the dismal feeling that had come with her noticing her surroundings, Aritha pushed open the door into the shop. A small bell chimed prettily, the sound as delicate as the bell itself, high and clear. Whether it was a warning of her arrival, or simply a greeting, was something up for interpretation. Of course it probably meant the negative, once the poor person working at the counter saw her. Hair now messed from the wind, clothes baggy and shoes worn to the soles, she looked like a disaster. It wasn't their job to judge her though; she would be in and out before they could say anything remotely friendly for her.

She was struck with the smell of fresh meat, raw and uncooked, scattered throughout the shop as she took her first few hesitant steps in. As much as the smell disgusted her, it sent a thrill through her body. Maybe it was just a memory, but it felt familiar to Aritha. The people of District Nine were made to hunt; it was in their blood. Nothing to be done about it, no one could. So she just stowed it away in a place she would eventually forget about it.

The girl perched just behind the counter had her eyes closed, and an expression of pure whimsical delight on her face- something that Aritha herself had never experienced. Should I wake her up? She looks happy. Shaking her head indecisively, Aritha moved forward and just stood there for a minute, observing the other girl who appeared to be several years older than herself. After about two minutes of silent watching, and mentally taking note of everything she could about her personality from her appearance, she began to worry that the other girl would open her eyes and see her there. Standing like a deer in the headlights, she'd be caught watching a random stranger.

Aritha could feel the blush creeping into her cheeks already.

Putting a light hand against her throat, Aritha finally broke the silence by clearing her voice. That was just to get her attention, see if she could snap the counter-lady out of her trance-like state. And while she didn't particularly want to ruin that for her, she didn't have a choice. If her stomach was growling, her family was probably ravenous. Cocking her head to the side, she raised her voice as much as she dared in the muted room, which she was sure would echo terribly.

"E-excuse me?"

Her voice came out timid and high, even squeaking at the end. Her old habit of stuttering came back too, something she was none too fond of.

[/color]

(OOC: If you need me to make my posts longer, I can, and I probably will once I get in the hang of things.)

[Ptero]

I am done with my graceless heart
So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart
Cause I like to keep my issues drawn
It's always darkest before the dawn

Elkie was a bird. She was a dancer who owned the skies, a gorgeous, red feathered bird who was free to do what she pleased. She emanated grace, illuminating the dark landscape below her and bringing light to the people of Panem. When she landed, she landed in a pink meadow, with the flowered trees and where the children played. They invited her to rest, let her sleep under the stars, and they celebrated her existence. She had the freedom to do what she liked, and she never had to worry about her impending death once a year. Elkie's worries and ticks in the back of her mind vanished without a shadow of their former weight left on her.

Birds flew around her, their trills mimicking those of bells she'd heard many times before. Clouds whispered around her when she flew, enveloping her and draping over her body in such a way that pulled Elkie out of her imagination, just for a moment, and she thought how similarly it imitated the dress she wore to the reaping. She smiled to feel the warmth of the sun on her face. There was nothing more inviting than this. There was no other place in the world that she hoped with every fiber of her being existed.

Elkie was snapped out of it by someone making a deep, throaty sound. Her eyes flew open, fluttering like butterflies stirred from their resting place by some unknown predator. Her gray eyes moved rapidly to find the source of the sound, which ended up being a thin girl who was in her early teens, about three years Elkie's junior. Her face was a dark hue, and though it was somewhat obscured by her brown hair, she could see the hints of embarrassment written plainly. In a moment, Elkie judged her as your average District 9 girl. Wearing clothes two sizes too big that were so faded you couldn't even begin to guess what color it had been originally, she stood tall before her.

"E-excuse me?" she voiced, truly announcing her presence.

Elkie smiled and put herself into her usual happy cashier facade. She pushed her red hair behind her ear, as if its presence obstructed her ability to sell and barter with this girl, and stood up.

"Good a-a-" she paused for a moment to walk over to the front window and look out. The streets had few civilians walking, as most were working in factories or their shops, the minors were attending school, and a limited few, such as her incredibly lucky mother and brother, were out in the forest, hunting. Elkie glanced upwards. Definitely close to noon. "Yeah, it's afternoon. Good afternoon!" she finally greeted. She walked back over slowly and gracefully to meet eye to eye with the girl.

"What exactly are you looking to buy? My mother just hunted most of the bird we have, and it's pretty fresh, so it'll be more expensive. I'm willing to take some off the price of the wild dog, because it's been a few days since I got it all chopped up," Elkie rambled on, not pausing to let the girl speak. "Are you looking for anything in particular?" she repeated after a moment, unsure what else to do.

Maybe it was the isolation in her family's tiny shop, or the desire to just make conversation with anyone, but Elkie found herself hoping that the girl would stick around for a while. She also idly thought to herself that the girl better be buying something, because she was thin, and no one should go hungry when they're already that close to starving. Maybe I should just give her the dog. It isn't gonna last much longer, and nobody really wants to eat something that reeks.

((OOC: It was perfectly fine! I think mine's a bit too small, so just let me know if you need more!))

[Nocturnal]

Aritha Dyle

Aritha stood uncomfortably, shifting from foot to foot as she waited for the other girl to respond to her badly worded greeting. It was not her place to judge anyone on appearance, but as that was the furthest she meant to get with this stranger, she did so anyway. Her fiery red hair framed her small face in a way that made her look oddly innocent as she sat there, almost oblivious to Aritha's presence. No doubt, that was a state that she wanted to stay in. But the words were already out of her mouth and traveling to the shopkeeper's ears. Moments before she opened her eyes, Aritha crossed her arms protectively over her stomach, to make it clear that she wasn't there for a conversation. Just business, nothing more and nothing less. If there was to be any conversation, then it would be a negotiation of prices; bartering.

Trying to wipe the blush from her cheeks, unsuccessfully, the girl hunched her shoulders forward in an unresponsive gesture that was more subconscious than anything. It was just more comfortable. Familiar postures, however uncomfortable they might appear to another person, offer a comfort that standing straight up would not offer to Aritha. As the sound registered on the elder girl's face, it was like she had been injected with a syringe filled with 'happy'. Her face lit up, her gray eyes widened, and a plastic smile plastered itself across her face. It was disturbingly natural looking to the self-conscious 14 year old. How could she pop out of her fantasy so easily, and not be irritated about it? Honestly, if someone woke her up and started talking to her, needing something, she'd pretend they weren't there and continue with whatever she was doing. Then again, that was the job of a cashier. To be polite and lightly pleasant to their customers so that they would buy their product and give them money. No one would really smile when they met me, Aritha supposed grimly.

She could feel the blush lingering in her cheeks, no matter how much she tried to push it back down. No use trying to get rid of it now, she thought. She's already seen it. Seen me. As the cashier pushed her hair back behind her ear, Aritha debated doing the same. Was it worth it to keep hiding from someone who she would have to talk to eventually, and would never see again anyway? She supposed not. Timidly brushing her own hair back, mirroring the movements of the other girl, Aritha tried to make herself smaller now that her face was revealed. All the flaws that it entailed were exposed to her, but perhaps she wouldn't care enough to look for them? No, they were obvious enough to anyone who so much as glanced at her. Her paper thin skin, as pale as the slush that everyone had wished was gone throughout all of winter. The deep bags hanging under her eyes from lack of sleep, and the sickly green color of her irises. Disgusting. Was it even possible for someone to look at her and not be repulsed?

A faint shadow of hope fluttered in her chest as the thought that maybe, just maybe, her reputation was all that was wrong with her. That she wouldn't be judged on sight by this girl. Aritha crushed that without a second thought. It wasn't her reputation that was wrong with her, it was her. Her brother would have already been home, but here she was, silently waiting for the other person to start speaking before she had to. Not a prospect that she looked forward to, if it did come to that. Luckily the socially awkward silence was broken when the older girl, as perky as ever, started speaking.

"Good a-a-"

Did she have a stuttering problem too? Yet again, that ugly little splinter of hope pulsed, only to be let down once more as she walked over to the window to check the time of day. Of course she wasn't as unacceptable as Aritha; it had been foolish to even let herself think that there was someone as bad at talking to others as she was. She was just trying to be courteous and doing her job well. Though, if she hadn't had her eyes closed, she might have known the time. She supposed seeing someone her age there in the middle of the day might have been confusing, since she had taken the day off of school to come and run errands. Making excuses for other people was normal, though she didn't have any for herself. There was always reason to others actions, which was something that had always confused her.

Why did things people did always have a reason? A straight, rigid way of doing things that was so no-nonsense, it seemed robotic to her. Not that she would ever want to, but didn't anyone do anything for fun? Aritha might do it if everyone else did, but she went with the flow. Making up a reason for doing everything, even if there wasn't one.

"Yeah, it's afternoon. Good afternoon!"

Aritha simply nodded in response to the bright cashier. Her good mood was so loud it was almost deafening, in the quiet loneliness that she normally spent her days. Was there any point to returning a greeting that she didn't mean? The girl didn't really care whether or not this stranger had a good afternoon or not, and certainly nothing she could say would change how her afternoon went. Going back to what she thought earlier, she reasoned that if there was no reason, no point to doing it, then she shouldn't. And thus she stayed silent. Just like I always do. It surprised her, how she actually seemed to want to say something. Like there were words on the tip of her tongue, but she just couldn't catch them and spit them out. An entirely unnatural feeling, that she could not wait to get rid of. It would probably fade with time, as all of her social inclinations did.

"What exactly are you looking to buy? My mother just hunted most of the bird we have, and it's pretty fresh-"

Tuning out of the meaningless ramble of the salesperson, she regarded the meat sitting on the shelves with a harsh eye. There was the scent of fresh meat coming from what used to be a deer, and then the pungent odor of meat that was about to go bad. That would probably be the cheapest thing, the easiest the consolidate for the change that she had lost earlier among the people of the market. Her family expected fresh meat though, and she wasn't sure she could pass off old products as new. Did they have the same sense of smell as her? Probably not, but they still did have noses last time she checked. Plus, wild dog was notorious for being stringy and hard to chew. Narrowing her eyes at it, she debated the ways she could arrange it to make it seem more like deer, or squirrel. Perhaps if she chopped it into smaller pieces and boiled them? Then the toughness would just be that she cooked it badly. That would be preferable to having them know that she had bought knock-off goods and presented them as the real thing.

Half way through the decision, the cashier's voice cut into her thoughts once more, slicing her arguments to shreds. "Are you looking for anything in particular?" Ha. If she were, then she wouldn't be dressed like she was; baggy shirt hanging off her thin frame, and pants two inches too short. If she had the money and prestige to be picky about what she bought, then she would have to be a merchant. Aritha could just see this girl taking her painstaking time over a selection of things, picking the most expensive to show off her wealth. No, perhaps not this person in particular. Just the image of the general merchant, a personification of what the regular members of district nine thought of the higher class citizens.

Something like a snort came from her nose as she regarded the question.

"No, not quite. Ah- how m-much for the...Uh, dog meat?"

Her nose crinkled as she said the last words, as if her body were repulsed with the idea of buying it. But her stomach's protest over-powered those of her mind.

[/color]

(Your post was lovely, and as you can see, it was fine to work with.)

[Ptero]

I am done with my graceless heart
So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart
Cause I like to keep my issues drawn
It's always darkest before the dawn

Elkie shifted her weight between her left and right legs rhythmically. She paused for a few moments on her left, staring idly at the girl before her. She was beautiful, in District Nine's own special, terrible way. Yes, the dark hair and tattered clothes begged to differ by any normal standards, but Elkie never really bought into that sort of thing except for at her Society meetings. If you paved away the ruin and tatter of this wretched district, Elkie would wager that you would find a very smart, gorgeous, young teenager.

Oh, she's so quiet. I wish she would speak up. I wish I could get her to speak, the butcher's daughter mused quietly. Not unlike a child, this girl kept to herself so perfectly it almost seemed a crime to disrupt it. Almost, of course. Elkie seldom let people keep to their own. Not unless she was dead certain they needed to be; Elkie was only certain that this girl needed a friend. More than anything,[/color] she added, as if friendship could spare this girl all the hardships presented by District Nine.

Elkie had her reasons for being this way. First and foremost, as a merchant, she felt it her responsibility to take care of the working class. Was this necessarily true? Not entirely. It had been luck and chance and fate all collaborating to allow her to be born into a family like the Swifts, and she did not owe society for her own luck, which gave her the benefit of being slightly less worse off than the rest of the district. Of course, the money that kept her fed and clothed was like a heavy guilt weighing on her soul, and she was eager to be relieved of it.

Elkie had always had that maternal instinct. The instinct to protect and guard. The first time she'd seen her baby brother Evander get hurt at school all she'd wanted to do was comfort him. She was incredibly fortunate that her best friend's much younger sister was always looking to her for guidance, or she would have smothered poor Evander years ago with her own instinctive personality.

Elkie was fairly unaware that some people resented her for her uncontrollable need to provide for others. To them, she just seemed to be flaunting her unending wealth. If you tried telling that to Elkie, she would regard you with just the smallest bit of a nose crinkle and a stiff upper lip. She was exceptionally good at lying to herself. No one thinks that it's stupid to help. No one would turn it away.[/color] The lies go on and on like that.

"No, not quite. Ah- how m-much for the...Uh, dog meat?" the girl finally asked. Elkie flashed her teeth brilliantly again.

How much for the wild dog? Elkie had never really been good about inventing prices where they had never existed, mostly since she was willing to give the food away to any child who looked hungry, but she felt that a price needed to be set. She didn't like exposing her soft underside, the part that would rather give this girl the dog and a good portion of the clothes in her closet. Regardless, without a plan, she proceeded.

"Well, uh, I'm not sure exactly. Why don't you tell me how much you'd like to spend, and we'll go from there. I'm willing to barter, and I'm even willing to trade for some essentials," Elkie told her without a beat.[/color]

((I apologize, and my next reply will be much better))

[Nocturnal]

Aritha Dyle

It was time for Aritha to put on her trader face. Before this, she hadn't thought overly about her facial expression, besides her blush, which was a constant source of both attention and worry. Now that the actual negotiations had started though, the girl needed to not give away anything to the seemingly friendly other girl, who was doing business as well. If there was one thing she knew about merchants, it was that they knew how to read a person. After all, they had to for their profession- making deals and bartering for a living. They-she- wanted the best offer she could get for the small amount of meat. It was just the way things were, Aritha knew. No matter how nice and open they were, merchants only wanted your money; nothing more. In her experience, the friendlier they were, the more devious they were. It was such a shame, really.

Slowly, so as not to draw too much attention to herself as she did so, Aritha drew her face into a mask. Erasing the faint rose blush that still was splotched across her cheeks, feeling it drain. Turning her frown into a thin line of nonjudgmental perfection. She was used to doing this, making it so others couldn’t read her. After all, why would she want them to? Not that many people tried, anyway. It wouldn't matter to anyone what she was thinking. Who cared what she was feeling? But being stuck with the same chore of shopping, she had learned how to make herself virtually unreadable; one of the few things she did well.

She even raised her head a fraction of an inch, as if looking down on the meat. Like she could afford to do that- it was probably the best she was going to get. Still, she waited in a painful silence for the shopkeeper to tell her that it was so overpriced that it hurt to even think about. And yet, she didn't, and it stretched forwards yet again in a blur of thoughts and patient waiting. All the while, Aritha resisted the almost overwhelming urge to tap, to move, to do something while she waited. Without meaning to, she began chewing on the inside of her lip, a nervous habit that she had to get rid of soon. Soon being never.

And so the other girl smiled, putting up the undeterable front of ecstasy to be helping her. Aritha took note of the gleam of her teeth, the way that even though they were pristine, they were far whiter than her own. It was probably because she could actually afford toothpaste, but that was just a guess. Most days, what she could barter for went to her older brother, who had the smile of a capitolite- perfect and just the slightest bit show-offy. Another feature that complemented the absolutely flawless makeup of her brother. Not many people are compared so often with someone that they use them as a base for the perfect person. That was what Aritha did.

Every person she met, whether randomly on the streets or her lab partner in science, was compared to her brother. If she saw their skin, and it was paler than his, it was too pale. If their skin was darker, it was too dark. Bags under their eyes weren't something he had either, so it was wrong. Everything that wasn't him was wrong- that had been effectively drilled into her head by her entire family since her youth. That was why Aritha knew she was so undesirable. The deep, bruise-like bags under her eyes were an enormous contrast to his spotless skin. Swampy green eyes on her face were the sheer opposite of his bright, electric blue. Snow-pale skin to a sun kissed tan. They were polar opposites, almost, and that was a sure sign that she was bad. He was good. There was no other alternative.

Why would there be?[/size] She thought, shifting her weight in a subconscious mimic of the shopkeeper, tentatively opening her mouth to speak, and then halting in her tracks as she realized the other girl was doing the same. It seemed like she copying her, again. And while virtually no time had passed, it seemed like an eternity for Aritha before the words came out of her mouth.

"Well, uh, I'm not sure exactly. Why don't you tell me how much you'd like to spend, and we'll go from there. I'm willing to barter, and I'm even willing to trade for some essentials,"

Seriously? After all that, you don't even name a price?[/size] Aritha was outraged, as much as she could be with her feeble attempts at emotion. She had steeled herself, masked her emotions and distanced herself farther than she already was from the other girl, for no cause whatsoever? How irritating. Anyone would be frustrated, even the introvert who cared nothing about what happened to her. This would take much longer, and she would get yelled at by her parents, and her brother would get dinner late. Aritha actually would have preferred she name an obscene price so that they could start bartering rather than beat around the bush like this.

And it was only the start- she knew that. Merchants were shrewd people who didn't always play fair. They would be jumping up and down the price scale for at least ten minutes before they got into any reasonable about of money, especially for dog meat that was going bad. She could use that to her advantage; though she couldn't exactly pretend to turn her nose up at it and walk out of the store. Then she would have to slink back in later and ask for the meat for a higher price. It just wasn't worth it.

So where would she start? Obviously at a place lower than she meant to actually pay, but she hadn't negotiated with this butcher before. Always someone older who seemed to work here as well. The girl didn't know how the other bartered; if she worked high, or bended easily to the other's will. Aritha hated new people.

[/size]"Let's start at...3 coins*, alright?"[/size] Aritha offered, her voice as steady as it would get, even though it was still quite wavering and thin. Not much she could do about that, but she sounded halfway sure of herself, which was a good thing when bartering. She had a grand total of 6 coins in her pocket, so she figured that starting at 3 was the right way to go. If they went way up, she could probably get it back down to around that much if she were somewhat flexible. And if they didn't she could use the fact that the meat was already close to rotting to her advantage, if it came down to it.

Aritha realized with a start that the inside of her lip was getting raw from her insistent chewing on it as she thought and talked, and it now hurt to make contact with. She could taste the metallic tang of blood settling lightly on her tongue, a warning to discourage from continuing. She had a low pain resistance anyway. Even without the blood, she would have stopped soon anyway. Still, Aritha crinkled her nose in disgust at the rusty taste of it, unable to stop that instinctual reaction.

In that second, as she made it, she realized that the shopkeeper might have thought she was doing so at the dog meat; doing exactly what she said to herself that she wouldn't. Damn it Aritha, you've screwed up again.

(*Since I'm not sure of the currency I'm just using coins; is that okay? If there actually is a currency I missed in the books, feel free to tell me, or if you want to use a different one, that's up to you. I just chose coins since it was simple.)[/blockquote][/size]