"It's a citrus, Pin. The grocer said it would be like biting into a slice of the sun."
Guttering oil lamps caused flickering umbra to dance across the three irregular orange orbs cupped in Isobeau's hands. The huge cavern was alive with the activity of adults, but in this little corner of shadow and stone, two Duskwight youths huddled together, contemplating this new and unusual treasure from the world above.
By now, Isobeau was old hat when it came to life in the huge local hub of civilization, having by then accompanied her Grand-pere on trading forays within the majestic confines of Ul'dah's walls a whopping three times. The first time she had ventured within that great collective of desert society had almost ended rather poorly for her, but she was older and wiser now, and (in her head) impervious to further troubles. She fancied that as she strolled the streets of the markets, lagging as far as possible behind the porters and Grand-pere as to appear alone, most of the various vendors and browsers would not even entertain the foggiest notion that she was not one of them; a sophisticated city dweller in her own element. After all, was she not just the newly-awarded beneficiary of one of her aunt's very best hand-me-down tunics (tucked and tied up where needed, and it was needed in many places)? Auntie plied Nymeia's own good trade for her Family unit; there were no worn elbows or frayed hems to be found on the clothing of the Clan weaver. If nothing else, she certainly looked the part of one born to a cultured and privileged life...if only in her own mind.
"Bring me your knife, Pin" she ordered, fussing over the fruit like a mother bird might over her eggs. Her little cousin slid off the rock and scurried over to his nearby pack, white hair flying with the flurry of motion that only a youth with the prospective of something wonderful just within reach could make. Little boy keepsakes spilled out upon the stone, until the small knife was found.
"He picked these out just for me, you know." Pin had scrambled back to his original position beside his elder, holding the knife toward her handle first. Negotiations had taken quite a while over the sales price of the various ores they had brought to the surface and presented to market. Isobeau knew not to venture too far from the Clan porters, but in an environment such as the Avenue of Sapphires, stalls and stands were within steps of each other, and the ornate woodwork and bright green paint of the grocer's booth attracted her eye as things not found in her natural environment were wont to do.
"Ah, what have we here? Such a lovely example of civility and grace." The Elezen shopkeep was handsome, enough to take a little wind out of the young Isobeau's lungs when addressed by him directly. A bright white sideways smile, tanned skin, other features that her kind shared with his and she would find attractive, but with a different shade attached. The young Duskwight girl did the only thing that came to her at the moment, pulling at her sideways braid awkwardly and looking at her bare feet. "Here, do you want something? Come here, Princess." She looked up at the Wildwood, locking her gaze briefly with ice blue eyes that did not share the smile creasing his lips, before he bent down behind the displays of produce. He came up with a small hemp sack, handing it in Isobeau's direction. "I'm sure you don't get many of these, isn't that right Princess." The grocer widened the mouth of the sack just enough for her to get a glance at the several brightly colored objects held within, just as his own grin widened with charismatic mirth. "These I hold away special for pretty little Princesses such as yourself. Don't eat them here, fille, wait and share with your kin, in the dark. You'll see, my dear, it will be just like biting into a slice of the sun."
"I like the smell of them, like there might be bread inside!" the boy's excited eyes were locked on the treats, as Isobeau took the cutting implement from his grasp and made the first tentative incision to the fruit's pocked skin. The peel was rather soft and the flesh malleable, but she quickly circumvented the blade around the fruit and pulled it into halves.
"Oh, look, it moves!' And by "move", Pin referred to the multitude of small larval insects newly displaced from their warm, rotting residence, squirming through the ruined pulp of the citrus in every possible direction. Isobeau dropped the remaining two uncut citrus and frantically cupped the freshly severed sections. "Hurry, get the bag, Pin....hold it under my hands. They're escaping!"
"Do they stuff these citrus, like meat buns?" her cousin asked, grabbing the sack and thrusting it beneath Isobeau's outstretched hands. She shifted both halves to one palm, and began quickly picking away at the little white wigglers with the other. "I'm sure they do, Pin. Citrus is a rare treat, even for city dwellers, because it takes so long to prepare", Isobeau said sagely. "Take your half...here you go".
"They're so sweet, Izzy. I feel as if I might become dizzy."
"The sun wiggles on my tongue!" she returned with a laugh.
The two Duskwight youths sat in their little corner of shadow and stone, and enjoyed their new and unusual treasure from the world above. A treasure shared with her by one whom the Clan elders said she was never to trust. 'I don't know why', she said to herself with a shrug, daintily sucking a larva from between juice-sticky fingers. 'This seemed like a pretty good deal to me.'
Guttering oil lamps caused flickering umbra to dance across the three irregular orange orbs cupped in Isobeau's hands. The huge cavern was alive with the activity of adults, but in this little corner of shadow and stone, two Duskwight youths huddled together, contemplating this new and unusual treasure from the world above.
By now, Isobeau was old hat when it came to life in the huge local hub of civilization, having by then accompanied her Grand-pere on trading forays within the majestic confines of Ul'dah's walls a whopping three times. The first time she had ventured within that great collective of desert society had almost ended rather poorly for her, but she was older and wiser now, and (in her head) impervious to further troubles. She fancied that as she strolled the streets of the markets, lagging as far as possible behind the porters and Grand-pere as to appear alone, most of the various vendors and browsers would not even entertain the foggiest notion that she was not one of them; a sophisticated city dweller in her own element. After all, was she not just the newly-awarded beneficiary of one of her aunt's very best hand-me-down tunics (tucked and tied up where needed, and it was needed in many places)? Auntie plied Nymeia's own good trade for her Family unit; there were no worn elbows or frayed hems to be found on the clothing of the Clan weaver. If nothing else, she certainly looked the part of one born to a cultured and privileged life...if only in her own mind.
"Bring me your knife, Pin" she ordered, fussing over the fruit like a mother bird might over her eggs. Her little cousin slid off the rock and scurried over to his nearby pack, white hair flying with the flurry of motion that only a youth with the prospective of something wonderful just within reach could make. Little boy keepsakes spilled out upon the stone, until the small knife was found.
"He picked these out just for me, you know." Pin had scrambled back to his original position beside his elder, holding the knife toward her handle first. Negotiations had taken quite a while over the sales price of the various ores they had brought to the surface and presented to market. Isobeau knew not to venture too far from the Clan porters, but in an environment such as the Avenue of Sapphires, stalls and stands were within steps of each other, and the ornate woodwork and bright green paint of the grocer's booth attracted her eye as things not found in her natural environment were wont to do.
"Ah, what have we here? Such a lovely example of civility and grace." The Elezen shopkeep was handsome, enough to take a little wind out of the young Isobeau's lungs when addressed by him directly. A bright white sideways smile, tanned skin, other features that her kind shared with his and she would find attractive, but with a different shade attached. The young Duskwight girl did the only thing that came to her at the moment, pulling at her sideways braid awkwardly and looking at her bare feet. "Here, do you want something? Come here, Princess." She looked up at the Wildwood, locking her gaze briefly with ice blue eyes that did not share the smile creasing his lips, before he bent down behind the displays of produce. He came up with a small hemp sack, handing it in Isobeau's direction. "I'm sure you don't get many of these, isn't that right Princess." The grocer widened the mouth of the sack just enough for her to get a glance at the several brightly colored objects held within, just as his own grin widened with charismatic mirth. "These I hold away special for pretty little Princesses such as yourself. Don't eat them here, fille, wait and share with your kin, in the dark. You'll see, my dear, it will be just like biting into a slice of the sun."
"I like the smell of them, like there might be bread inside!" the boy's excited eyes were locked on the treats, as Isobeau took the cutting implement from his grasp and made the first tentative incision to the fruit's pocked skin. The peel was rather soft and the flesh malleable, but she quickly circumvented the blade around the fruit and pulled it into halves.
"Oh, look, it moves!' And by "move", Pin referred to the multitude of small larval insects newly displaced from their warm, rotting residence, squirming through the ruined pulp of the citrus in every possible direction. Isobeau dropped the remaining two uncut citrus and frantically cupped the freshly severed sections. "Hurry, get the bag, Pin....hold it under my hands. They're escaping!"
"Do they stuff these citrus, like meat buns?" her cousin asked, grabbing the sack and thrusting it beneath Isobeau's outstretched hands. She shifted both halves to one palm, and began quickly picking away at the little white wigglers with the other. "I'm sure they do, Pin. Citrus is a rare treat, even for city dwellers, because it takes so long to prepare", Isobeau said sagely. "Take your half...here you go".
"They're so sweet, Izzy. I feel as if I might become dizzy."
"The sun wiggles on my tongue!" she returned with a laugh.
The two Duskwight youths sat in their little corner of shadow and stone, and enjoyed their new and unusual treasure from the world above. A treasure shared with her by one whom the Clan elders said she was never to trust. 'I don't know why', she said to herself with a shrug, daintily sucking a larva from between juice-sticky fingers. 'This seemed like a pretty good deal to me.'
![[Image: OYk4HjW.png]](http://i.imgur.com/OYk4HjW.png)
. Its sort of a little tale about perception and intent, but I also figure that folk who live a primarily subterranean existence might have a wee different idea of what acceptable edible proteins might be 
)
