Kindness was rare in harsh Sunberth -- and in during a gang war, practically unheard of. A person helping another to their feet was more than likely to stab the poor soul in the back, or pick their pockets. So when Shakune felt someone touch her, she flinched and threw herself down and back, trying feebly to escape. Her vision was still blurry; the woman who was apparently trying to help her was no more than a fuzzy figure of pale skin and dark hair.
But she got to her feet, and Shakune had the faintest idea that the woman beside her had helped in some strange, unexpected way. The black-eyed woman threw a fleeting smile to the other, daze and confused, but knowing that for some reason she had found an accomplice in this chaos.
"Where to?" She repeated the words slowly and slurred, her lips moving slower than her tongue. Twisting her head, Shakune glanced around her, but winced. Her neck burned painfully, her head felt ten times heavier than normal. Her vision - though still blurred - could make out the flashes of silver blades amongst the otherwise dark shapes in front of the two women. They were surrounded; people stood on stalls, crouched underneath them ready to spring out onto their foes.
Where to?
The question was her anchor, attaching Shakune to the chaotic scene in front of her and stopping the courier from floating away and ignoring her need to escape this inferno. "I live somewhere." She said blurrily, hand gesturing to the left, then the right. She knew she lived somewhere, somewhere close to the market but far away enough to be a haven.
Where to?
Her black eyes scanned the crowd desperately again, landing on the face of a bearded fellow. He was a man who, had Shakune seen him in any other setting, she would have swaggered over to and attempted to bed. A smile that was almost drunk crossed her lips as she swayed to and fro gently, admiring this brutish male who swung a cut glass like a warrior.
A tiny, sensible voice shouted in the bag of Shakune's mind: this is not the time. Flee!
Her burning loins were cooled instantly, and the courier began scanning the muddling crowd once again. What she was looking for was unclear to Shakune: a friend, perhaps? Someone to help her?
She spotted the pale Konti: the woman who she was certain had said her name earlier. "My friend!" She exclaimed, suddenly panicked and fearful for the stranger's safety, "my dearest, dearest friend!"
Onwards she ploughed, elbowing and shoving her way through the battling people as if she were fighting her way to the bar in a tavern. For some reason that would forever remain unknown to Shakune, her delirium and confusion had attached the utmost importance to the Konti. She had said Shakune's name after all, and that meant that Shakune must know her, care for her. The fact that the half-breed knew absolutely nothing about the woman completely evaded Shakune. She now had one mission: to get to her friend, the complete stranger.
Throwing a desperate look back to the dark-haired woman who she was dragging along with her, Shakune shrieked, "I have to get to my dear friend!" When she reached the Konti, Shakune embraced her tightly, before leaning backwards and gripping the other woman's shoulders with the greatest conviction. Her face was deadly serious, her words slurred and her balance completely off. "I think we should leave, friend."
But she got to her feet, and Shakune had the faintest idea that the woman beside her had helped in some strange, unexpected way. The black-eyed woman threw a fleeting smile to the other, daze and confused, but knowing that for some reason she had found an accomplice in this chaos.
"Where to?" She repeated the words slowly and slurred, her lips moving slower than her tongue. Twisting her head, Shakune glanced around her, but winced. Her neck burned painfully, her head felt ten times heavier than normal. Her vision - though still blurred - could make out the flashes of silver blades amongst the otherwise dark shapes in front of the two women. They were surrounded; people stood on stalls, crouched underneath them ready to spring out onto their foes.
Where to?
The question was her anchor, attaching Shakune to the chaotic scene in front of her and stopping the courier from floating away and ignoring her need to escape this inferno. "I live somewhere." She said blurrily, hand gesturing to the left, then the right. She knew she lived somewhere, somewhere close to the market but far away enough to be a haven.
Where to?
Her black eyes scanned the crowd desperately again, landing on the face of a bearded fellow. He was a man who, had Shakune seen him in any other setting, she would have swaggered over to and attempted to bed. A smile that was almost drunk crossed her lips as she swayed to and fro gently, admiring this brutish male who swung a cut glass like a warrior.
A tiny, sensible voice shouted in the bag of Shakune's mind: this is not the time. Flee!
Her burning loins were cooled instantly, and the courier began scanning the muddling crowd once again. What she was looking for was unclear to Shakune: a friend, perhaps? Someone to help her?
She spotted the pale Konti: the woman who she was certain had said her name earlier. "My friend!" She exclaimed, suddenly panicked and fearful for the stranger's safety, "my dearest, dearest friend!"
Onwards she ploughed, elbowing and shoving her way through the battling people as if she were fighting her way to the bar in a tavern. For some reason that would forever remain unknown to Shakune, her delirium and confusion had attached the utmost importance to the Konti. She had said Shakune's name after all, and that meant that Shakune must know her, care for her. The fact that the half-breed knew absolutely nothing about the woman completely evaded Shakune. She now had one mission: to get to her friend, the complete stranger.
Throwing a desperate look back to the dark-haired woman who she was dragging along with her, Shakune shrieked, "I have to get to my dear friend!" When she reached the Konti, Shakune embraced her tightly, before leaning backwards and gripping the other woman's shoulders with the greatest conviction. Her face was deadly serious, her words slurred and her balance completely off. "I think we should leave, friend."