Post by Willow on May 12, 2017 19:46:37 GMT
The days where the tribe sold their things to citizens were always fascinating and depressing. The life here was a complete 180 in regards to the life out in the wastes and while the city certainly had it’s wealth, Willow wouldn’t want to trade her life in the tribe for the world.
One of their carts had been turned into a marketstall. They sold herbs, clothes and mostly novelty items that sold surprisingly well here. It probably had to do with the fact that the nomad life had something almost mythical for some people here.
They also selled… other herbs, herbs that altered the mind for a while, but they didn’t advertise that. You had to know. And even then they were cautious; as long as they were within the city walls, they were at it’s mercy.
Willow was seated on a folding chair next to the cart. One of her tribe-members did the selling, Willow mostly spent her time people watching. Most of the tribe stayed close to the cart, blending into the crowd ,even though theft wasn’t much of a risk here. Still, if someone got any funny ideas, they’d be apprehended surprisingly quickly. They were nomads, being perceptive was how they stayed alive.
Willow got up and went for a walk. She walked past some of the other stalls, some run by other tribes, which she greeted as old friends, some run by regular city-folk. It was days like these where they also often ran into new members; it happened surprisingly often that someone wanted out of the city.
She briefly stopped at a stall that sold all sorts of fabrics. She felt a few of them, but decided against getting some.
Her casual stroll came to a halt when, somewhere ahead of her, there seemed to be some commotion. She sped up to see what was going on.
One of their carts had been turned into a marketstall. They sold herbs, clothes and mostly novelty items that sold surprisingly well here. It probably had to do with the fact that the nomad life had something almost mythical for some people here.
They also selled… other herbs, herbs that altered the mind for a while, but they didn’t advertise that. You had to know. And even then they were cautious; as long as they were within the city walls, they were at it’s mercy.
Willow was seated on a folding chair next to the cart. One of her tribe-members did the selling, Willow mostly spent her time people watching. Most of the tribe stayed close to the cart, blending into the crowd ,even though theft wasn’t much of a risk here. Still, if someone got any funny ideas, they’d be apprehended surprisingly quickly. They were nomads, being perceptive was how they stayed alive.
Willow got up and went for a walk. She walked past some of the other stalls, some run by other tribes, which she greeted as old friends, some run by regular city-folk. It was days like these where they also often ran into new members; it happened surprisingly often that someone wanted out of the city.
She briefly stopped at a stall that sold all sorts of fabrics. She felt a few of them, but decided against getting some.
Her casual stroll came to a halt when, somewhere ahead of her, there seemed to be some commotion. She sped up to see what was going on.
