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Day 1

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((OOC Story ))

That night, after Naesha's first arrival....

Naesha sat on the edge of the bed in her temporary upper room of the tavern. Beside her lay the open pouches and tools that came through on her person. Her basket was left outside, just inside the woods across the path from the tavern. With delicate care, she rooted through her meager belongings. Not much was here. One did not carry one's entire possessions after all, especially when out gathering what seed she could for this season's planting. The haul was also meager, so late in the season, but there had been some left on dried-out stalks not yet touched by the wild animals or other peasants. It had been a good find, lucky - or so she thought. Some luck... Briefly she considered fetching them, then glanced out the window. No... it was too late and they said werewolves were about.... Whatever that was. She hoped the basket and grains were still there tomorrow.

Carefully she moved from the bed towards the window and gazed out to the night sky. It was awe-inspiring and utterly foreign. All the constellations she knew, gone. Star positions were vastly different. Her nose wrinkled and flared. Well... if she was to be here a while she would need to learn the sky here. Until she knew the area better, it was the one way to be sure she wouldn't get lost.

Turning back to the bed, she wrapped her arms around herself. Two fortnights was a long time to do nothing. There was no family farm to support her either, and she had no... home. It was just... herself. Alone. She shook her head and stopped the progression of that thought. Such bleak paths lead to un-needed pain. Her feet clopped softly against the floor boards. She flexed her second and third toes, they scrapped softly against the floor. She'd need to find work, at the very least to obtain necessities and find a place to live until this rifter-thing opened up again.

But, first... she needed sleep. Tomorrow she'd go into town, find this "Temp Agency" and see if she might find gainful employment. Maybe later she might visit Tunc at this "Salvage Works" place he spoke of... Salvage. That meant to reclaim or reuse or gather... right? Slim, funnel-shaped ears swiveled forward. The shrewed trader-mind her father tried to hone in her... stirred thoughts. Trade. She didn't know how these people traded, or paid for things. Like the night sky, that was something else she would need to learn. What they valued....

Again she sat on the bed next to her things. She pulled off her long-sleeved over-shirt and then her bottoms. Beneath them was a long, no-sleeved, under-tunic with four splits. It smelled of sweat. That was going to be a problem as well. Where did they wash clothes? One ear flattened... did they wash clothes? It was bad enough she'd have to go to bed with a sweaty tunic on..... no. Wait. There was no need was there. The tunic could be hung to air-dry and air-out - be less foul smelling in the morning. She did not need to worry about anyone seeing her naked. This was her room, and she had no siblings or family to worry about now... because... she was... alone.

A pang of sadness shot through her heart. She winced and lowered her head. Her chest heaved and she let out a soft, sad groan. Half lidded eyes looked at her forearms. Her hoof-tipped fingers gently moved up her arms over the short stubble of her fetlocks. A deeper dread rose up inside of her, pushing the sadness to the side temporarily. Her missing grooming tools... needed to be replaced quickly. These things were normally left at home when one went out to work, and that she did. Including her files and clippers. Now.... She lowered her head into her hands and sighed softly through her nostrils. Now, she needed them and there was nothing to be done for it.

Absent-mindedly she brushed the hard knot on her forehead.

Oh Mother....

A heavy weight pressed against her chest and shoulders. Her muscles tightened and her throat clenched. This was wrong in all kinds of ways.... Staying positive only bottled up the fear, loathing, and anger... and now... now she felt those emotions creep into the back of her mind as doubt wore down her resolve. The "people" were strangely shaped, and she used the term people very loosely. Some wore coverings on their feet. Many of the clothes were strange. Some of them sported flat faces, and some didn't even have tails! And Daygons... Denial rose up inside of her. No, they were myth. Maybe, as she thought back to those she just met... maybe what she knew as Daygons were not what they called dragons.... Hope flickered a moment, and buoyed her sinking spirits.

She ran her hands through her things and started to sort things out as she thought. Her finger tips trembled. The shock was wearing off. A shiver started in her shoulders and ran down her arms and spine. Her gut wrenched. In response her eyes shut and she bent over in half. Emotions started to overwhelm her. By sheer force of will she locked them back down again. A heavier sigh escaped her nose, making a ptptptpt snort-like sound. Her ears laid back. No. Feeling sorry did not a wagon fix.

There was a plan. The people here seemed nice enough. She could find work, or so she was told... in fact it seemed like they expected it. That was curious. With a shake of her head, she stripped down and hung her tunic out to dry. Gently she replaced her items in their pouches, and placed these on the table near the bed. Eyeing the strange looking... what she assumed was a bed... Then she crawled into it, covered up and fell into a restless sleep.
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