Lolo opened his eyes and stepped up on top of a bench, leaning over the railing to see the ocean. It had been months since he'd relocated to Vylbrand and he still loved to look out over the sea. Maybe he really was just a tourist in residence, but the ocean reminded him of home in a way. The great expanses of water and sand were both things to be crossed, not lived upon, and from moment to moment the waves and the dunes changed their face. One used the sun and the stars to navigate both.Â
But now wasn't the time to wax contemplative. The heat was too oppressive for that, and his mind thus too sluggish to think any thoughts to truly be proud of. No, he had dallied long enough. He looked up towards the Upper Decks and the Bismarck, thoughts of cool refreshments enjoyed in the shade and the breeze dancing through his mind, followed immediately by the realization that for exactly that reason the Bismarck would be particularly busy, and today was a day for pushing through crowds, not sitting amongst them.
With a resigned sigh and a final glance over the bulwark, Lolo stepped off the bench, his foot catching on the edge of his soggy robe as he fell face first onto the hard stone below. Momentarily dazed, he rose to his knees, one hand immediately flying to his head, the other to the left pocket of his robe. His breath caught in his throat as he patted around his waist, only resuming when his hand came to rest on the familiar bulge. Thank Thaliak, he thought, I didn't drop it.
He stood up, brushing off the front of his robe and wincing slightly at the minor scrapes and bruises on his knees and elbows, and began to cross the plaza in the direction of Hawkers' Alley, right arm clutching his shoulder bag, left hand hovering protectively over the pocket, tracing out the dimensions of its contents absentmindedly.
But now wasn't the time to wax contemplative. The heat was too oppressive for that, and his mind thus too sluggish to think any thoughts to truly be proud of. No, he had dallied long enough. He looked up towards the Upper Decks and the Bismarck, thoughts of cool refreshments enjoyed in the shade and the breeze dancing through his mind, followed immediately by the realization that for exactly that reason the Bismarck would be particularly busy, and today was a day for pushing through crowds, not sitting amongst them.
With a resigned sigh and a final glance over the bulwark, Lolo stepped off the bench, his foot catching on the edge of his soggy robe as he fell face first onto the hard stone below. Momentarily dazed, he rose to his knees, one hand immediately flying to his head, the other to the left pocket of his robe. His breath caught in his throat as he patted around his waist, only resuming when his hand came to rest on the familiar bulge. Thank Thaliak, he thought, I didn't drop it.
He stood up, brushing off the front of his robe and wincing slightly at the minor scrapes and bruises on his knees and elbows, and began to cross the plaza in the direction of Hawkers' Alley, right arm clutching his shoulder bag, left hand hovering protectively over the pocket, tracing out the dimensions of its contents absentmindedly.
