Prompt 006: Prowl
Notes: Prompt index here.
It was like being bombarded with noise: sights and smells and chatter of humans going about the market. The smell of kebabs and the hum of refrigerators, packets of turmeric and cinnamon and bay leaves, glass toys full of coloured sand - everything strange and everything with a name attached. Just a glance filled her head with new words and phantom memories. Telrim kept her head high and her wits about her, forcing a relaxed pace to hide how very much on alert she was. A man with a stall covered in gauzy scarves called out to her. She picked him and his wares apart with assessing eyes, then shook her head slightly and moved on.
< You’re making me feel on edge, > Natasha complained. < Relax. It’s just a tourist market… >
< I don’t know what you mean, human. I’m just taking a stroll. >
Her host shifted uncomfortably. She still seemed to be coming to terms with her situation. < What are you looking for anyway? >
< Just something nice to bring home? > She watched curiously as a stream of people dithered over hand-made confectionary, looking from the price card to the labels. Weighing their wallets against their stomachs, she realised abruptly.
< …Are you looking at the stalls or the people? >
Telrim turned and perked up as her eyes landed on a row of printed pictures. < Yes. >
It was like being bombarded with noise: sights and smells and chatter of humans going about the market. The smell of kebabs and the hum of refrigerators, packets of turmeric and cinnamon and bay leaves, glass toys full of coloured sand - everything strange and everything with a name attached. Just a glance filled her head with new words and phantom memories. Telrim kept her head high and her wits about her, forcing a relaxed pace to hide how very much on alert she was. A man with a stall covered in gauzy scarves called out to her. She picked him and his wares apart with assessing eyes, then shook her head slightly and moved on.
< You’re making me feel on edge, > Natasha complained. < Relax. It’s just a tourist market… >
< I don’t know what you mean, human. I’m just taking a stroll. >
Her host shifted uncomfortably. She still seemed to be coming to terms with her situation. < What are you looking for anyway? >
< Just something nice to bring home? > She watched curiously as a stream of people dithered over hand-made confectionary, looking from the price card to the labels. Weighing their wallets against their stomachs, she realised abruptly.
< …Are you looking at the stalls or the people? >
Telrim turned and perked up as her eyes landed on a row of printed pictures. < Yes. >