38 Glade 122
Yeva bit into a piece of meat, absentmindedly chewing as she wiped the grease from her fingertips. On the table beside her was a large silver platter stacked high with more food than she could eat comfortably, but the red-haired woman didn't dare to leave the plate unfinished. The more time she spent in the city, the larger her appetite seemed to grow. Her hand hesitated, plucking up a piece of hard boiled egg, nibbling at is yolk. She continued to chew as she practiced her craft. Yeva licked her lips and took a sip of water, swept her eyes across the spread on the table and leaned close to analyze the tiny details of each card. She had seen the deck numerous times, but her grandmother's art never failed to impress, surprising her each time with a new detail she had somehow overlooked.
The spread was about her; easily reinforced by the placement of the Fool as its indicator. Just like the tarot's classic character, she was a naïve seeker of adventure and experience. It was, after all, a portion of why she had come to Ecith. However, ever since arriving, she had resisted the energy to be such, and allowed her insecurities to keep her reserved, fighting herself in a city where that was near impossible. She had hoped, by reading the cards, that she would be granted insight to what was coming next, but the cards all pointed to travel. She already knew that, of course. She had been in discussion with Norani about visiting the outer village and each day that passed, her nerves and excitement grew. Yeva was excited for flight and for authenticity. The city was amazing, but she was ready to see more of the land. And, apparently, expectations for village life differed than what she had seen so far during her time in Drathea.
She was writing down the spread and her interpretations in her journal, a practice she had learned as a girl to track patterns and use as a form of meditation, when the sound of shouting resounded outside. There was a flash of color, as a green orc with blue hands looked around wildly, grabbing at one of the patrons leaving the inn. He looked desperate, breathing heavily as he shouted unapologetically. She couldn't hear him well and gathered her cards with nervous reluctance. Yeva watched through the window, a trickle of concern pooling in her stomach, and froze as the person he grabbed, turned and pointed directly at her.
Yeva bit into a piece of meat, absentmindedly chewing as she wiped the grease from her fingertips. On the table beside her was a large silver platter stacked high with more food than she could eat comfortably, but the red-haired woman didn't dare to leave the plate unfinished. The more time she spent in the city, the larger her appetite seemed to grow. Her hand hesitated, plucking up a piece of hard boiled egg, nibbling at is yolk. She continued to chew as she practiced her craft. Yeva licked her lips and took a sip of water, swept her eyes across the spread on the table and leaned close to analyze the tiny details of each card. She had seen the deck numerous times, but her grandmother's art never failed to impress, surprising her each time with a new detail she had somehow overlooked.
The spread was about her; easily reinforced by the placement of the Fool as its indicator. Just like the tarot's classic character, she was a naïve seeker of adventure and experience. It was, after all, a portion of why she had come to Ecith. However, ever since arriving, she had resisted the energy to be such, and allowed her insecurities to keep her reserved, fighting herself in a city where that was near impossible. She had hoped, by reading the cards, that she would be granted insight to what was coming next, but the cards all pointed to travel. She already knew that, of course. She had been in discussion with Norani about visiting the outer village and each day that passed, her nerves and excitement grew. Yeva was excited for flight and for authenticity. The city was amazing, but she was ready to see more of the land. And, apparently, expectations for village life differed than what she had seen so far during her time in Drathea.
She was writing down the spread and her interpretations in her journal, a practice she had learned as a girl to track patterns and use as a form of meditation, when the sound of shouting resounded outside. There was a flash of color, as a green orc with blue hands looked around wildly, grabbing at one of the patrons leaving the inn. He looked desperate, breathing heavily as he shouted unapologetically. She couldn't hear him well and gathered her cards with nervous reluctance. Yeva watched through the window, a trickle of concern pooling in her stomach, and froze as the person he grabbed, turned and pointed directly at her.