Post by Deleted on Feb 15, 2023 13:42:45 GMT -5
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This was Elderkeep, so nothing in the little sack of food that Elena Eldouir had unexpectedly gifted Citra had gone to waste. The fruits and vegetables had been eaten first lest they spoil, and any seeds had been saved and bartered away for more food. She had consumed the bread next, and then the dried meats after. Only the box of candies was left. Their sweetness had surprised the teenager, who hadn’t quite known what to expect when she’d stuck the first one in her mouth, and despite herself, she savored them. There were sweet fruits and berries in Elderkeep, of course, but making candy wasn’t high on anyone’s list of priorities. Once these were gone, there would be no way to get more, and Citra didn’t want her limited stock to run out too fast.
With the assistance of some rope, the sack itself had been repurposed into a sort of satchel that she could sling over her shoulder and keep tucked in close to her side. Though she had nothing but the box of candy to put in it - her dagger was staying within easy reach on her thigh, and the mirror shard that had proven itself useful for peering around corners belonged in her pocket - its presence still made her feel a little more prepared: should she have need to carry more than she could hold, she had a method to do so. A piece of fabric was versatile, too, namely as a weapon to choke or blind or perhaps even bind a hypothetical opponent. It was good. That it came from an Eldouir was nothing less than utterly confusing.
A cry, close but not too close, interrupted her thoughts and had everyone on the street freezing before they turned as one to look in the direction from which it had come. The smart ones dispersed, putting distance between themselves and the beating that was very likely occurring, but Citra stepped back to wait. And wait. And wait.
Death in Elderkeep rarely came swift or painless.
When she deemed it safe, the teenager crept toward the scene of the violence. She saw the crumpled form of a woman by the side of the road, and after a thorough scan of the surrounding area - there was no use putting a target on her own back by approaching while the predators were still around - Citra made her way toward the body. After all, the dead had no need for the belongings they bequeathed upon the living. As she approached, however, it became clear that the badly beaten woman was not quite gone.
“Please.” The word was quiet, barely audible. “I can’t feel my legs.”
For a long moment, Citra looked at her. Then her hand fell to her dagger, and she unsheathed it in a practiced movement. Without a second thought, she bestowed upon the woman the only mercy Elderkeep had to offer.
To business, then. After setting the bloodied weapon on the ground beside her and casting another quick glance around, Citra began to search the cooling body for anything of use.