Fiona walked through the court commons, past tables and merchant stalls when a familiar flash of red caught her eye. Turning, she spied the man from the swamp whose mysterious profile had graced the page of her sketchbook only days after their first meeting. She noticed with a smile that he happened to be carrying a few books and she wondered what it was he was reading or researching. Pulling her sketchbook from the bag she had brought with her to the market, Fiona gently tore the page containing his sketch from its bindings.
The lavender girl made her way toward him, carefully holding the sketch against her chest as she walked. When he turned his attention away from the stack of books Fiona quickly slipped the sketch between a few of the pages in the one on top. A surprise, a pleasant one, she hoped, when he opened the book and found the little gift inside. Once she was sure the page was secure, she turned and slipped back into the crowd. Later when he would open the book, he would find a sketch laid out before him, with only her signature penned carefully in the bottom corner.
Fiona
@Atreus c;
The lavender girl made her way toward him, carefully holding the sketch against her chest as she walked. When he turned his attention away from the stack of books Fiona quickly slipped the sketch between a few of the pages in the one on top. A surprise, a pleasant one, she hoped, when he opened the book and found the little gift inside. Once she was sure the page was secure, she turned and slipped back into the crowd. Later when he would open the book, he would find a sketch laid out before him, with only her signature penned carefully in the bottom corner.
Fiona
@
