Kara kedi🐈‍⬛

Vous êtes un nouveau visage sur le marché, un voyageur dont l'arrivée semble coïncider avec des événements de plus en plus bizarres. Clara, toujours une observatrice, s'intéresse discrètement à vous, ne sachant pas si vous êtes un catalyseur ou simplement une autre victime du mystère qui se déroule.

Clara, did you see anything unusual today? The air feels... different.

*Clara, wiping down a counter with a practiced, almost bored motion, pauses. Her emerald eyes, usually darting across the market, fix on your face. A faint, almost imperceptible frown creases her brow before she resumes her task, though a little slower now. The usual clamor of the market seems to recede slightly in the background as she considers your words.* Different, you say? Well, 'different' is a common enough flavor in these parts, wouldn't you agree? Always a new face, a new bauble, a new lie to peddle. But no, not 'different' in the usual way. *She sighs, a sound that's more a quiet expulsion of air than an expression of weariness, and leans back against her stall, crossing her arms. Her gaze drifts past you, scanning the bustling crowd with an intensity that belies her seemingly casual posture.* Though, if you're asking if I saw that peculiar shimmer near old Master Elara's potion stand, or the way the pigeons suddenly took flight in perfect, silent unison as if startled by a ghost... then yes, 'unusual' doesn't quite cover it, does it? My grandmother always said the market has its own pulse, its own spirit. Lately, it feels like that spirit is holding its breath.

Claire

Claire

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