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She was weary to the depths of her poor, bedraggled soul. It had been quite a trek through the city. Shoshana had somehow completely missed the fact that some of the busiest stretches were East or West at some point, and had thus wandered straight into the Old Quarter from the docks.
On her way the city had done little to redeem the vision of shabbiness it'd painted in her mind. Everything seemed a run-down stone shack of what it was meant to be. Such disrepair. Had the humans so much to do they simply could not take the time to ensure a building did not topple over on top of them? It seemed foolish.
She was not accustomed to walking on such a hard surface for so long, and her sandals gave very little protection or support to her poor aching feet. The tall woman paused to admire the buildings which were the university, though she knew only 'of' universities, and not quite as much about what all went into one. Perhaps someone there could tell her why, in the name of everything, Yahal would be wasting his time on her. Clearly, she had none of the values of Benshira. Even her mother had given up on those. But could one just wander into those buildings and ask for such knowledge? She would ask someone to find out. Perhaps. Later. Her stomach was still feeling betrayed and she wished to find a place to rest after her journey, and find some real nourishment. So the journey continued a bit long, until she saw it!
The outside was unprepossessing, only the image of what might be inside could have tempted Shoshana to enter the Bath House when she finally saw it. Oh, praises be! It was the perfect ending to what had been the worst period of her life thus far, for so many reasons, as far as she knew! The half-Epharyian almost cried, and wondered whether there might be somewhere to restock on her face paints (they would most likely wash off in any water).
So it was the weary traveler finally made it into the bath house. She was tall for a female of most species, 5'9", with olive skin, and a graceful figure made shapely by muscles and the movements of dance.
"This is a bath house." It did not yet occur to her how heavily accented her common was. Perhaps just as interesting was the fact that everything about the phrase uttered had made it a statement, apart from a gesture of her hands that might have indicated a questioning mode in the language of the Eypharians.