"Not at heart, no," Yrael says, cheerfully. Some time as they walked, his style of dress changed. Still all-white, but now of a finer, more archaic cut. He looks like he could be a foreign prince or noble, escorting a lady through the street of craftsmen and artificers.
The voices of the sellers mingle in proud declaration of the superiority of their wares, others mix with those of the buyers, deciding a price. A young boy runs past, grinning, to hide behind his mother's skirts and eat its stolen handful of figs.
"Lady! Pretty lady!" comes the voice of a merchant from Yrael and Rachel's right. A brave merchant, perhaps, willing to call to the rather odd pair. He holds up a length of fine cloth, smooth in its pattern of purples and blues with golden thread woven into a delicate swirls at the corners, a shawl or wrap to be fastened with a simple golden brooch. "Lady, would you honor a humble weaver and let him delight to see his work upon your shoulders? It is the finest of my works, and would do me proud to see it upon someone of your beauty."
Yrael's smile holds a trace of his smirk that could only been seen by those who know him. The merchant's wares, from the look of them, are out of the price range for most of the common villagers.
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Date: 2007-01-03 05:52 pm (UTC)From:The voices of the sellers mingle in proud declaration of the superiority of their wares, others mix with those of the buyers, deciding a price. A young boy runs past, grinning, to hide behind his mother's skirts and eat its stolen handful of figs.
"Lady! Pretty lady!" comes the voice of a merchant from Yrael and Rachel's right. A brave merchant, perhaps, willing to call to the rather odd pair. He holds up a length of fine cloth, smooth in its pattern of purples and blues with golden thread woven into a delicate swirls at the corners, a shawl or wrap to be fastened with a simple golden brooch. "Lady, would you honor a humble weaver and let him delight to see his work upon your shoulders? It is the finest of my works, and would do me proud to see it upon someone of your beauty."
Yrael's smile holds a trace of his smirk that could only been seen by those who know him. The merchant's wares, from the look of them, are out of the price range for most of the common villagers.