The Lower City, Corus - Wednesday Morning FT

[provostsdog]

The week had been maddening so far and for once, it weren't the foils, rushers or mumpers who were making matters complicated. It felt as if she had too much energy and despite chasing a cutpurse through the Cesspool the eve afore, she still felt much the same when she woke up the next morning

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[to_his_tune]

Rosto waited patiently, reaching up to rub his shoulder as he flicked a wink at the wide-eyed lad hanging out of his mother's stall.

"I don't speak to you as if you're anyone but Beka," he asserted quietly once Beka had returned with her pastries.

[provostsdog]

That sound was possibly a huff and then she pushed the basket at his chest, again sommat harder than was required.

"Then do you speak to your doxies as if they were me?" she asked, and she was now going to simply keep her gob shut. She quickly moved past him, head ducked and the image her mind was supplying only served to hasten her step and worsen her mood.

[to_his_tune]

With a frustrated sigh, he grabbed the basket before it could fall and caught up with her, his hand reaching to clasp her arm and pull her close so he could speak without the whole street hearing. "No."

[provostsdog]

A cove and gixie were watching them and Beka bit her lip, keeping her temper. He was right, she had been near to hollering.

"You should go to breakfast. Tell them that I'll be by tomorrow," she replied. "When I'm not acting like a jinglenob that's hadtoo much hotblood wine."