For a moment, she thought of the past as the Lalafell wondered about why she would be treated differently. Â Of someone telling her about how fish were only aware of the sea, how they couldn't imagine life on land. Â The smith was the same: the greatsword was just another weapon to him, and sure enough many have used it as such. Â To her it was a lifestyle, a rough hand that, however needed, is not desired, and she had come to view it as such.
She relaxed, Â "No, I'm sure the lancers wouldn't mind the greatsword. Â But if I were to say, go around in a greatsword and pointy armor with a mean expression on my face, well, I'd have a lot of eyes on me, wouldn't I? Â I don't need that, I live there."Â
She started to realize she wasn't getting her sword fixed without an answer, but just couldn't bring herself to spit it out. Â It was a habit, one born of necessity in her life. "What if I want to go home, and crash on my bed? Or just nip on over to the stalls for something sweet? Â I'd have a hard time doing that with such a dark reputation."
She relaxed, Â "No, I'm sure the lancers wouldn't mind the greatsword. Â But if I were to say, go around in a greatsword and pointy armor with a mean expression on my face, well, I'd have a lot of eyes on me, wouldn't I? Â I don't need that, I live there."Â
She started to realize she wasn't getting her sword fixed without an answer, but just couldn't bring herself to spit it out. Â It was a habit, one born of necessity in her life. "What if I want to go home, and crash on my bed? Or just nip on over to the stalls for something sweet? Â I'd have a hard time doing that with such a dark reputation."
