Undeniable Interests
5 Spring 514AV
14th Bell
It'd been a while since Wanda had found herself here, but the building didn't seem to recognize the passage of time. There was just as much dust and just as many strange objects wasting away on the shelves as there had been the last time she was here, perhaps about a full five or six seasons ago.
She wasn't entirely sure why she'd stopped coming by the odd little shop. Maybe she'd gotten too busy. Maybe she just didn't see the point any more. Maybe she'd gotten bored, or maybe it was all of those things. Whatever reason, she didn't dwell on it. She was here now.
Procrastinating, that's what she was doing. There were still supplies to be bought, arrangements to be made. Things to do. Sleeping outside for nearly seventy days? She would need somewhere to sleep, or something to sleep in. A tent. And food. Wanda doubted that the other caravan-goers would let her starve -- or, at least, she hoped the people she would be paying at the end wouldn't. The thought never crossed her mind that, if she died somewhere along the way, they would be more than happy to walk off with her money and anything else she would bring.
Either way, she wasn't taking care of any such business right now. After so much running around, doing this and that and worry about that and this, all the emotional distress and mental drainage, Wanda wanted to relax. And what better place to relax than an old, decrepit shop of... stuff? It was the quietest place Wanda knew in the city, the walls somehow managing to block out the hustle and bustle just outside.
To her credit, Wanda had told herself she would search for anything that might be useful on a journey. It might have helped, though, if she'd had a more definite criteria for what such an item might be, because she now found herself standing at the back of the store in front of a particularly grimy-looking row of what she supposed was supposed to be a collection of texts. Really, they were mostly just rolls of yellowed parchment or leaves of paper bound together by strips of leather or twine. Gray dust clung quite stubbornly to the ragged edges of the papers, and didn't budge no matter how heavily Wanda breathed on them.
What was she even doing here, really? Not here, in the store -- she already knew what she was trying to do here (or, rather, what she was not trying to do). But she wasn't here for books or papers or any such thing. In fact, she didn't particularly want to read anything right now, and certainly not the kinds of grungy journals that these appeared to be.
Behind her, Wanda heard one or two other patrons milling about the stacks. Perhaps she could pester someone about a good place to find traveling supplies in the city?
Her muscles tensed ever so slightly in preparation to move away from the shelf she was currently staring at, but before she could shift her position her hand lightly braced itself on the horizontal wooden plank as if it had a mind of its own. Wanda cocked an eyebrow at herself and her sudden change of mind, letting her eyes trail to the cover sheet of the makeshift book closest to her fingers.
Upon reading the title, Wanda had to sigh to herself. Of course, it had to be on such a topic -- perfect material for her to waste away her time on. She could have simply let it go and turned her back. But then again, she really couldn't. Curiosity and all that.
Slender fingers trailed their way over to the volume, dragging it through the lumps of dust and closer to her face, leaving a clean path behind it. Notes was scrawled in chicken scratch in the very center of the cover, so sloppily that the only reason Wanda could read it was because it was such a short and singular word. Below it, in only slightly neater handwriting, was On Djed, Antoly Kahne.
5 Spring 514AV
14th Bell
It'd been a while since Wanda had found herself here, but the building didn't seem to recognize the passage of time. There was just as much dust and just as many strange objects wasting away on the shelves as there had been the last time she was here, perhaps about a full five or six seasons ago.
She wasn't entirely sure why she'd stopped coming by the odd little shop. Maybe she'd gotten too busy. Maybe she just didn't see the point any more. Maybe she'd gotten bored, or maybe it was all of those things. Whatever reason, she didn't dwell on it. She was here now.
Procrastinating, that's what she was doing. There were still supplies to be bought, arrangements to be made. Things to do. Sleeping outside for nearly seventy days? She would need somewhere to sleep, or something to sleep in. A tent. And food. Wanda doubted that the other caravan-goers would let her starve -- or, at least, she hoped the people she would be paying at the end wouldn't. The thought never crossed her mind that, if she died somewhere along the way, they would be more than happy to walk off with her money and anything else she would bring.
Either way, she wasn't taking care of any such business right now. After so much running around, doing this and that and worry about that and this, all the emotional distress and mental drainage, Wanda wanted to relax. And what better place to relax than an old, decrepit shop of... stuff? It was the quietest place Wanda knew in the city, the walls somehow managing to block out the hustle and bustle just outside.
To her credit, Wanda had told herself she would search for anything that might be useful on a journey. It might have helped, though, if she'd had a more definite criteria for what such an item might be, because she now found herself standing at the back of the store in front of a particularly grimy-looking row of what she supposed was supposed to be a collection of texts. Really, they were mostly just rolls of yellowed parchment or leaves of paper bound together by strips of leather or twine. Gray dust clung quite stubbornly to the ragged edges of the papers, and didn't budge no matter how heavily Wanda breathed on them.
What was she even doing here, really? Not here, in the store -- she already knew what she was trying to do here (or, rather, what she was not trying to do). But she wasn't here for books or papers or any such thing. In fact, she didn't particularly want to read anything right now, and certainly not the kinds of grungy journals that these appeared to be.
Behind her, Wanda heard one or two other patrons milling about the stacks. Perhaps she could pester someone about a good place to find traveling supplies in the city?
Her muscles tensed ever so slightly in preparation to move away from the shelf she was currently staring at, but before she could shift her position her hand lightly braced itself on the horizontal wooden plank as if it had a mind of its own. Wanda cocked an eyebrow at herself and her sudden change of mind, letting her eyes trail to the cover sheet of the makeshift book closest to her fingers.
Upon reading the title, Wanda had to sigh to herself. Of course, it had to be on such a topic -- perfect material for her to waste away her time on. She could have simply let it go and turned her back. But then again, she really couldn't. Curiosity and all that.
Slender fingers trailed their way over to the volume, dragging it through the lumps of dust and closer to her face, leaving a clean path behind it. Notes was scrawled in chicken scratch in the very center of the cover, so sloppily that the only reason Wanda could read it was because it was such a short and singular word. Below it, in only slightly neater handwriting, was On Djed, Antoly Kahne.