boo.
the price we pay
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Peigi was beyond pissed.
As Caroline stretched her hand out in what she probably thought was a menacing manner, Peigi moved toward it, her forehead almost brushing the pale hand in a show of bravery. She wasn't afraid. In fact, she was ready to fight, right there, right now. She most certainly would have, had people not started talking all at once. As Caroline dropped her hand, the man that had come with her began shouting, another older man who claimed to know the dragon approached, and Uisce was going just a bit batshit crazy.
You know, a normal meeting of the minds.
Peigi stepped back behind Uisce, wagging her head in a confused manner. She wasn't sure who to listen to, and she certainly wasn't sure how to reply to anything. Were she and Aldair done here? How did these people find them? And what was going to happen next? Peigi felt as if all of this was going above her head. She wasn't here to save the world. She was just here to save her clan. And now, she wasn't even sure if she could do that. Waters couldn't be spared, and they were still starving. Even now, her stomach growled silently, reminding her that she hadn't eaten for some time. She gazed longingly at the markets, where she could see a few small baskets filled with small, thin fish. Even the people here were having trouble fishing. The prices were absurd, but for a moment, she considered buying one. But a feeling of embarrassment grew inside her, and she cast aside the idea without a second thought. She had no right to feed when her people couldn't. She would eat when they did, and no sooner.
The smell of the nearby sea then crept in, making Peigi cast her eyes toward the streets that led toward it. She felt as though she should leave. She didn't belong here; she belonged with her clan and finding a solution. Perhaps she should just leave. In fact, she was sure everyone wanted her to leave. She was sticking out like a rusty nail, not adding to the conversations in any way. She tucked a damp clump of hair behind her ear and sheathed her sword, noticing that it was no longer needed.
Making up her mind, she quietly slipped away, headed back toward the market. No, those tasty-looking fish would have to find other homes. That bow string was going to be hers, then she was out of here. She made her way back to the stand where she had first found the strings, handing over a small sack of coins and picking up the white string she had been eyeing before. It was beautiful - no, immaculate. She found a shady corner and sat down, pulling out her bow and beginning to attach the new string to it.