The Same Old Thing (open)

OOC: Sorry for the wait.

As she waited, straining to listen, she realized something. Yes she was in real danger, but she had suspected that from the moment the man in red had noticed her. But no, it was the other who bothered her. If the other warrior, the one she now knew was a woman, came for her it would likely be all over. Second guessing her plan, she started to make a run for it, but knew that would draw attention.

She froze, holding her breath. Their meeting seemed to have ended, and it was now of never. She started to move toward the door, but wasn't sure if he was near by. Running into him wasn't part of her plan, and would only add to her danger. Placing a thin finger delicately on her soft, full lips she turned her emerald eyes toward the door thinking. She was good at making a scene, a magician of sorts, as was the way of her people, but this. This couldn't be solved by cunning and deception, and a little desperation, or could it? Grabbing a rich blue scare from around her waist she placed it over her head, tying in under her long flowing ebony locks before moving toward the door, more sure of herself.

That was until she heard a commotion in the street. Peeking out she spotted where someone had caused a stall to fall and the crowd had stopped to gawk. Great! There goes any change of being subtle. She fumed before leaving the store anyway. It was obvious that such timing was more than coincidence, she must have lost the stranger. After hearing them speak, she had guessed one would try to find her. She prayed it was the man, fearing the woman with all her being, but still she would do. She had been summoned, though she wouldn't stop and gawk like the crowd.

Shifting easily into one of her many dances, she gracefully wove in and among the group of on lookers, many not even noticing her. How easy it would to line her pockets with these foolish people, unaware that their own purses had been lightened. She allowed a slight grin to grace her lips when she spotted the man in red. A cloud of spices tainted the air in a miasma, making it hard to breath, and tears started to blur her vision. She hoped the man suffered the same, for her sake. She was tempted to test him, see how perceptive he was, would he notice if she... No, it would not do to steal from him, it would ruin her plan, her hope. Still the thought was enticing while it lasted. She danced right past him, keeping only one other person between then before moving back into the crowd. Leaving her own spicy scent in her wake, though she doubted if any would notice with the spice merchant's wares pouring forth their own aromas.