W
Windsong
Guest
Original poster
The sun rose slowly over the horizon that morning, a bright and vicious crimson that made his stomach uneasy when he first noticed it as he sat up, fishing pole laying across his legs where he'd passed out the night before, the bodies of his meal scattered on the sand around him. "Red sky in the morning, sailor's take warning." He recanted to himself, drawing his knees to his chest to savor the chill morning air that blew through his salt encrusted hair, he wanted to swim, but he also needed his knife back.
To pass some time while he knew the town would finish its rousing routines he continued to fish, catching a few decent sized meal-fish that he could sell off at the market before delving into town. How hard could it be to find a traveling healer in a town that had more wounds and scars than it had medicines and salves?
He'd gotten lucky in the short time he fished, five decent sized catches would net him at least a few silver to pay for anything he'd need or want the rest of the week. Even getting word from a local fish monger that the woman had been taken away by some old couple to tend to their young child, that was as easy as it needed to be for him for many an older impoverished folk stayed in the rented slums from the local lordship, even he'd had to resort to that from time to time. "Just give me some ti--" He paused when a set of tattooed islanders walked by, eyes like coal giving him the eye of a shark staring down its next bite as they shoved past, scowling the whole while. Were their teeth really that big and sharp? No, his imagination must be getting the better of him, an after effect of the healing from the day before.
Speaking of his wound it was finally beginning to close, though the veins that were black the night before were now in stark contrast to even his sun-tanned skin, giving the impression of scars left by jellyfish stings along his side originating from the wound. Sure beats a tattoo. He thought, glancing towards the housing area he planned to case through.
To pass some time while he knew the town would finish its rousing routines he continued to fish, catching a few decent sized meal-fish that he could sell off at the market before delving into town. How hard could it be to find a traveling healer in a town that had more wounds and scars than it had medicines and salves?
He'd gotten lucky in the short time he fished, five decent sized catches would net him at least a few silver to pay for anything he'd need or want the rest of the week. Even getting word from a local fish monger that the woman had been taken away by some old couple to tend to their young child, that was as easy as it needed to be for him for many an older impoverished folk stayed in the rented slums from the local lordship, even he'd had to resort to that from time to time. "Just give me some ti--" He paused when a set of tattooed islanders walked by, eyes like coal giving him the eye of a shark staring down its next bite as they shoved past, scowling the whole while. Were their teeth really that big and sharp? No, his imagination must be getting the better of him, an after effect of the healing from the day before.
Speaking of his wound it was finally beginning to close, though the veins that were black the night before were now in stark contrast to even his sun-tanned skin, giving the impression of scars left by jellyfish stings along his side originating from the wound. Sure beats a tattoo. He thought, glancing towards the housing area he planned to case through.