Calliope, having not had the fortune - or perhaps misfortune, for who could say, having never done - of meeting them, though nothing of the paper she'd tugged from a fate of drifting across cobbles upon the street of Ul'dah. It had been tucked into the pack slung over the tomboy's shoulders without even a glance upon the words as she frolicked out the north gate on her way to see if the fish were biting.Â
A nibble at the line, a tweak of her cork, and a slight jerk of the rod ended ultimately with a lovely trout clutched in her thin fingers, and her little pink tongue poked out of the corner of her rosy lips as she concentrated on the task of removing the head and innards of the unfortunate trout. Plop! Into the water they went, followed by the fins, and a few rubs of the blade and a dunk into the drink freed the future meal of scales. With her blade stuck into the root of a stump, it was then that the diminutive woman reached into her pack and produced the paper, which she set upon the top of the stump.
"Oh...? Someone's engaged? Aw, that's nice. They sound important, maybe. Hm." In a moment of idle pause, she considered the flyer and whether or not she might get into some manner of trouble for taking it. Ultimately, the duel of thoughts was resolved with the conclusion that they should've used better nails to tack it to whatever it was put onto, and then it wouldn't have been blowing across the road... so really it was their own fault, anyway.
Thlup! She smacked the cleaned fish onto the paper, and then neatly wrapped it up and tied it with a little length of twine. The piscine parcel found a new home in her pack, and with her fishing pole resting upon her shoulder she began her trek back to town without giving the matter any further contemplation.
A nibble at the line, a tweak of her cork, and a slight jerk of the rod ended ultimately with a lovely trout clutched in her thin fingers, and her little pink tongue poked out of the corner of her rosy lips as she concentrated on the task of removing the head and innards of the unfortunate trout. Plop! Into the water they went, followed by the fins, and a few rubs of the blade and a dunk into the drink freed the future meal of scales. With her blade stuck into the root of a stump, it was then that the diminutive woman reached into her pack and produced the paper, which she set upon the top of the stump.
"Oh...? Someone's engaged? Aw, that's nice. They sound important, maybe. Hm." In a moment of idle pause, she considered the flyer and whether or not she might get into some manner of trouble for taking it. Ultimately, the duel of thoughts was resolved with the conclusion that they should've used better nails to tack it to whatever it was put onto, and then it wouldn't have been blowing across the road... so really it was their own fault, anyway.
Thlup! She smacked the cleaned fish onto the paper, and then neatly wrapped it up and tied it with a little length of twine. The piscine parcel found a new home in her pack, and with her fishing pole resting upon her shoulder she began her trek back to town without giving the matter any further contemplation.
Lydia Lightfoot ~ The Reliquarian's Guild «Relic» ~ Lavender Beds, Ward 12, #41
This player has a sense of humor. If the content of the post suggests otherwise, please err on the side of amusement and friendship, because that's almost certainly the intent. We're all on the same team: Team Roleplayer! Have a smile, have a chuckle, and have a slice of pie. Isn't pie great?
This player has a sense of humor. If the content of the post suggests otherwise, please err on the side of amusement and friendship, because that's almost certainly the intent. We're all on the same team: Team Roleplayer! Have a smile, have a chuckle, and have a slice of pie. Isn't pie great?
