#(here we goooo! tappy dances)

[abyssmalice]

(streaks of salt and lightning in her hair) -- @spacewrought

There was a storyteller today.

Tonia sat at a corner of the restaurant patio, elbows on the table and her chin resting lightly against her hands. Her head was turned towards a sizable crowd on the other side - where a sizable audience ‘ooo’-ed and ‘ahh’-ed as the storyteller wove her fantastical tale. It was a grand thing to listen to, an experience so riveting that Tonia’s poor jade parcels were starting to grow cold.

And the food would only be further neglected, once the story had finished and the crowd was beginning to disperse. Curiosity never a fetter, she abandoned her own table to join the table where the storyteller was, now alone. A part of her wondered if her approach was a bit rude in its suddenness, but—

“That was a wonderful story!” Tonia greeted, placated, smiling as she took in the woman’s appearance - looking now, the eyepatch seemed so fitting for a person recounting a daring tale of sea storms and monsters from the depths. “Do you always have such grand adventures like that, Miss?”