Mute Discussions (Farria/Hannai)

[Harbor]

It had been easier for Hannai to find work in Uru’Baen, after it had been conquered, than she had expected. She’d had suggestions all around, from working as an acrobat again, to working in the rigging of a ship or assisting in hanging it while the ship was being built, to a thief. Ideally she would have loved to be an acrobat again, but this time around she didn’t wish to be ignored. Making a friend in Caspian had given her just enough confidence and sense of self that she had already determined she would from now on have a name, not simply be nudged here and there by others referring to her by her unusual, ghostlike coloring.

However the local theaters were full of talented acrobats already, being the capital city, but they had been impressed by her performances and had asked her to return in six months to ask again—they may have developed new openings. And she hadn’t wanted to work on ships, being afraid of water and unable to swim. Thievery was thus far out of the question. In the end, after a great deal of thinking, she applied at several noble houses as a high-places cleaner. She’d ‘spoken’ with a local window-washer who’d said he could use someone of her talent, but he’d been unable to rectify her having no place to live. But many noble houses had dust along their ceilings, he’d said—and he would know—so he’d given her the names of a few of his clients and a letter of introduction, and sent her on her way.

They had taken some convincing, but at last, over the course of several days, Hannai managed to convince multiple houses that she was well capable of climbing even smooth walls, if they were near enough to each other, and she would not leave footprints, nor would she knock down paintings or fall. She even managed to convince one of them to allow her to live with some of the other live-in servants and feed her, for reduced pay from that particular house, and while it wasn’t necessarily enjoyable as acrobatics had been, Hannai had a place to sleep and people who looked for her to return before dark, and knew her by name.

Hannai had six houses to clean, and it took her most of a day to do each one. But Sunday was her day off, and she often used it to wander, to deposit her earnings for the week, and to better understand this new city, the size of which she could never have imagined before she began to regularly walk it.

She liked to walk outside the city too. It took her weeks to work up the courage to do more than simply circle within sight of the walls, but there were just enough trees in the vicinity of the city to comfort her—how many people interested in abducting thirteen-year-olds were willing to chop down a tree to reach them because they had climbed to the very top? Often people saw Hannai while walking, and sometimes even the same ones multiple times, which always amused her. But she liked meeting new people now that she was less afraid of introducing herself to them.

It was on one of these walks that she saw the girl, perhaps about Hannai’s own age, and was surprised to see her out alone. She almost never saw children on this side of the city—most of the farms and homesteads were on the other side. So Hannai lifted a hand and waved, then ran up the hill toward the girl to introduce herself, removing her leather-cord necklace with the round, translucent brown marble tied into it. She held it out as though she wished to deposit the marble into the girl’s hand, waiting for her to put out hers and touch it so she could say hello.

[Quetzal]

Since the end of the war, Farria had not known what to do with herself. She didn't much fancy going to her family after the village drove her out for her odd powers, and neither did she want to go back to being studied like a rare beast by the scholars as the Varden academics had done. She had travelled a little, but had found herself coming back to Uru'baen. There was no purpose to anything she did aside from trying to find a real purpose. She had no attachments, no real desires to do anything. She had grown too used to being nonverbal to seek out a block on her magic to let her speak again. She didn't much want to pave any great pathways, inspire anyone, any of that. She had no clue what she wanted.

Since the end of the war running off on her own had made the eight-year-old quite wild. Running about the wilderness with a snow leopard was no place for a child. Thievery had made her guilty at first, but now it was routine. First she had to remind herself each time that if she did not steal she did not eat while the people she stole from could just buy more food. Now stealing was barely given a second thought. She still made some effort to only take from those who looked like they could afford it, though it was more out of habit than a conscious awareness. The one power she did use was that ingrained ability, the one that didn't require words; being able to go anywhere completely undetected. It wasn't invisibility, it was a knowledge of exactly where to go to avoid being seen, and some magical effect which made people automatically ignore and forget her unless she was pointed out to them. Stealing was easy.

If anything went wrong, Sheratan usually lurked close by. Nothing like a large snow leopard to discourage attackers. Today she had ventured unusually close to the city walls, the big cat hanging back half a mile or so to stay further from humans. Spending so much time away from society had made Farria wary of other people, too. Caravans travelling down roads frightened her, so she hated to even think of the crowds in the city. Few people were about today as she strolled leisurely across a hill, smelling the fresh air with the hints of the city on it. She wasn't using her ability to hide, nor did she need it. People avoided the shabby young girl with the wild look in her bright green eyes.

People avoided her except for one girl, maybe a couple of years her elder. She waved slowly back, wary and unsure what to make of the interaction. People tended not to want to talk to her. This abnormality was followed further as the girl walked up to her. Farria stood her ground, watching her. She hadn't just mistaken her for someone else then. The other girl was skinny and slight too, but her limbs had the hint of tough sinewy muscle. Not one for power like the big burly knights, more for speed and agility. She herself was like that, though hunger made her small and gaunt, more hollow than she could have been.

She looked at the marble in suspicion then held out her hand to touch it. This was odd behaviour, but at least the other girl wasn't babbling away like some idiots did.

[Harbor]

Hannai grinned when the girl touched the marble, having expected the look the girl gave her when she did so—it was the look everyone gave her before growing accustomed to her. Hello, she said brightly. My name is Hannai. Are you lost? I never see other children around here. She didn’t necessarily express herself in words—she often had to formulate them for people unfamiliar with her, but she forgot sometimes. However her intentions and impressions usually came across to those who were paying attention. Hannai’s gaze flicked over her again and her eyebrows crept together with concern; the girl was bonier than she ought to be. Hannai had packed a few rolls for herself to munch on in case she got hungry, and because she was trying to teach the local birds to sit on her hands and nobody shooed her for feeding the birds out here. So she slung the small pack off her shoulders and dug in the pocket that had the fresh rolls Cook had given her, as the others were all stale, and offered one to the girl. You look hungry, she said, and expressed that she had other rolls too, but the others were hard already. Still, if the girl wanted them, she was sure the birds wouldn’t mind.

Hannai closed her hand back over the marble in her fist when she wasn’t trying to express herself, not wanting others to be too privy to her thoughts, since Hannai did wish to maintain her privacy, and because she doubted others wanted to listen to her thoughts all the time. It seemed a rather boring venture to undertake. Some of the white hair from Hannai’s loose braid tickled across her face and she frowned, scraping it out of her way. She considered the skinny girl again, contemplative, then extended the marble and showed her her last memory of feeding the birds off the corner of the nearby forest. None had landed on her yet, but she was trying.

{Sorry for the short. Couldn’t think of anything else.}

[Quetzal]

Farria stared at the girl when her voice sounded in her head. She wasn't speaking aloud, and even in this internal dialogue words became blurred with images and feelings. Precious few people talked like that. The marble was a curious thing too, allowing their minds to make contact even if Hannai couldn't use the same abilities Farria thought of as 'mental magic'. She stood for a moment, taking it all in. Never did she think she would meet anyone else like this. Everyone else spoke. Could be mutism was something you grew out of, considering she'd heard of other kids who didn't speak even if she hadn't met them, but no adults. A few grown-ups had said "oh, I once saw a child who never said a word, they were speaking by their teens" and the like, as if that meant they understood.

"You're like me. You speak like dragons."

That was all she could think to say, not needing the marble to make a mental connection. Strong emotions were hitting her, rooting her to the spot, making her feel as though she were lost in a sea of brand new colours beyond the seven in the rainbow, things she could see but not comprehend. She focused on steadying her breathing, realising her heart was racing. As she calmed, slowly, a wide smile spread across her face. Her eyes glistened with tears of joy. Here was something totally unexpected. A person who might actually understand her. Not just in terms of communication, in terms of actually recognising how she felt. Someone who could tell why there was no point to speaking.

"My name is Farria. I'm very hungry, thank you," she took the roll and tore a big chunk off with her teeth. It was slightly too big for her mouth so she struggled to chew for a moment. The birds were a nice image. The other girl liked nature too, then? Farria had never tried, but she had never seen why she couldn't befriend a bird. She'd already made a companion out of a huge cat, after all. In return she sent back images of her with Sheratan, the snow leopard helping her, keeping her warm, running with her. She wanted Hannai to see they had similar interests.

[Harbor]

Hannai fidgeted at the slight space between when she spoke and the girl responded to her. She was getting used to it, since she ‘spoke’ to people more these days; she’d spoken more in the last few months than she had in her entire life before. Twelve years of quiet and mostly of being ignored because people in this world took quietude as simplicity and for the most part never considered that someone who didn’t open their mouth may have quite a lot going on behind it. Then when the wiry girl spoke Hannai jumped, startled.

“You’re like me,” the girl said, and Hannai grinned. Well apparently that went both ways, only this girl could speak without the use of a tool like Hannai had. Hastily Hannai uncovered her marble again and showed her warm flickers of her memories of Sephora, when she first landed beside her and Hannai’s fright, but Caspian assuring her Sephora wouldn’t eat her, and Sephora and Caspian flying overhead. Do you know a dragon too? she wanted to know, astonished. She hadn’t realized silent girls were that common, or people who were friends with dragons, let alone people who were both.

Hannai smiled to Farria’s name, glad to have one to call her by, and glad her rolls could go to good use. The images of the wild cat startled her too, but evidently he was Farria’s friend. Was he a pet? Had Farria caught him, or had they found each other? She uncovered her marble to ask her these questions, curious, but not sure she was ready to meet the cat herself. It had taken her time to get used to Caspian’s horse and Sephora as well, and the horse couldn’t eat her and the dragon had promised she wouldn’t, so they frightened her less. A cat couldn’t make a promise, could it?

She wondered how Farria felt about town—Hannai saved nearly all of her money from cleaning houses and could get her some more to eat if she wanted. If not she could show her to where she fed the birds. Hannai was free the whole rest of the day, and was happy in town and outside of it, whichever Farria preferred. She pointed to both of the places she suggested going as she showed them to Farria in her memories, asking which one she preferred. She only had one more soft roll, and the rest were good only for birds and soup.

[Quetzal]

((Sorry this took so very long!))

The more she learned, the more Farria found delight in her similarities with Hannai. The other mute girl knew dragons too, and the one shown to her was familiar. A Varden dragon, one she did not know personally but had seen flying and training with the others. Excitedly she showed Hannai her own memories of that same dragon, just the odd image of it around the camp and the feeling of familiarity. It was simply familiarity and not total recognition, but she was certain she had seen that dragon before. It was possible she was mistaken in the same way it is hard to recognise a horse you've seen before regardless of colour. Dragons might be more varied in colour than horses but that was still possible to get confused in memory.

Other dragons she was sure she had seen. David's tiny black hatchling. Another black dragon, Emiryal's, larger. A purple one, another purple one, a couple of blue ones, Saphira. Saphira had been the only one she had known well. The others were seen or spoken to on occasion. She had not had many good friends in the Varden being so much younger than the others, the others preferring training or company their own age to a little girl, but a couple of the dragons she had come to know. If Hannai knew one of them, perhaps she knew more as well. She had never seen her around the camp, however, and was surprised to have missed her. Surely one of the people looking after her would have thought it would benefit the two young girls to meet and befriend one another? She pressed the question without words, a puzzlement about the lack of Hannai's presence in the camp.

Explaining Sheratan was difficult. She was not a pet. They were more equal than that. She hesitated then replayed the image of the two of them finding each other, the cat walking right through her village to find her. She didn't include the flashes of each other's minds they had been seeing before then, the odd pull that had drawn Sheratan to find her. That was not something to tell strangers. Hannai seemed like she could cope with many unusual things but until she was able to predict her reactions better she wanted to play it safe. Partially this was to protect herself, partially because she found herself actually wanting to get along with this other girl. It was not often she wanted a friend.

Here was an example of where her method of communication was better than words. Still leaving out the more unusual aspects of their connection, Farria simply showed Hannai what her friendship with the animal felt like. How well they knew each other, the need to protect one another, the things they learned from each other.

Town. She frowned, not liking being so close to crowds, but a couple of suggested places seemed from the memories not to be too crowded, so she agreed to those.

[Harbor]

Hannai grinned at the strange coincidence of happening upon another girl who knew Sephora. Not many people could honestly claim to know dragons. It appeared Farria knew several, though Hannai couldn’t guess at how well through only glimpses of memory. Farria could communicate without use of Hannai’s marble, but seemed to express herself in precisely the same manner. She’d have laughed if she could. Wait until Sephora heard!

At Farria’s question, Hannai acknowledged ruefully that it would have been nice to meet Farria during the war—everyone had been frightened and flustered, and knowing someone near her own age who was not a Rider would have been a comfort. Unfortunately, as she explained in flashes, she, Caspian and Sephora had reached the Varden late in the game, and with all the turmoil around the camp and city Caspian hadn’t deemed it safe for a horse and rider to come close, afraid they’d be picked off by archers from either side, especially with or despite having a Rider flying above. So Hannai and Caspian’s horse, Destier, had hidden in the nearby forest until the worst of the fighting was over.

After that Caspian and Sephora were sent to Ellesmera, so Hannai and Destier had found places in the shattered city, one to work and one to graze, until the Riding pair had been able to come back for a visit, as they recently had. Hannai had missed them terribly—people had assumed for years that since she didn’t speak, Hannai had nothing to say, and she’d had very few companions, merely being shuffled from one acrobatics job to the next until her performance hall burned down and Caspian and Sephora invited them to come with them to the Varden.

Hannai didn’t fully understand Farria’s relationship with the huge cat called Sheratan, but she recognized that it would be a bad idea to aim a kick in her direction if the cat looked at her the wrong way, and smiled so Farria knew she was kidding. She pushed chickens around when they swarmed her sometimes, but she’d never had reason to be leery of cats before, even one Sheratan’s size. She’d gotten used to Sephora—surely she’d get used to Sheratan too. At least Sheratan wouldn’t kill her if she stepped on her accidentally.

Hannai grinned and started off toward town. There was a square in the poorer district of town that never had thick crowds in it. Trotting, they reached that spot in only a couple minutes. Hannai pointed to a few halved barrels arranged for people to sit on and tugged two copper coins out from under the wide ribbon in her apron and skipped to the biscuit-seller on the corner, buying a small basket of buns and bringing them back to Farria, remembering how the girl had gnawed through the roll she’d given her. These ones had a bit of cheese shredded on top. Plus she still had the bag of stale rolls too, and if they broke them up and scattered them the birds would be here in minutes to keep them company.

[Quetzal]

Staying out of the war was probably wise, Farria thought in retrospect. In the camp she had been glad for the company and what she had learned but all the scholars of the Varden had poked and prodded her no end, trying to figure out what she could do and trying to make her speak so they could see what magic she could use. Hannai might be hiding big secrets for all she knew and even if not there would be some curiosity over a girl who communicated as she did. One of the bookworms would want to prove some theory or other. During the fighting itself she had snuck into the city ignoring the Varden's warnings, which she came to regret when she learned the hard way what a battle was really like. She had hidden like a coward with another scared child then ran off when the fighting was over. The others probably thought she was dead. Maybe they heard otherwise through the few Varden friends she had seen since. She didn't care much. There was no one who mattered all that much. She didn't share the part about her being at the battle to Hannai.

She had half a mind to get Sheratan to meet Hannai, thinking the leopard might like the idea of her having a friend, but didn't want to risk causing a stir in front of other people. Even in a seemingly empty place someone would see her. That rarely ended well and she wasn't in the mood for anger, fear, or worse, bloodshed.

She followed the other girl into town, looking around her at the obvious signs of battle and repair. The poorer district did not have the luxury of proper repairs as the rest of the town did. Most of the damage was patched up hurriedly, some still only with sheets and boards of wood over wholes in walls. She sat on the barrel and scanned the place for potential dangers and exits. No one looked like they had even noticed the two unremarkable little girls. Her eyes widened at the sight of a whole basket of buns, taking one and feeling its warmth in her hand for a moment before eating it. This time she ate slower, savouring the taste more.

The sight of bread already drew the attention of a few pigeons, she noticed. Bird like that watched whenever people ate for hopes of crumbs left from messy eating. She pointed out a couple watching them nearby to Hannai, and the flock of pigeons roosting on a roof who seemed totally oblivious to them. Birds were more clever than people gave them credit for. They knew where food was, and she had even seen some pull of clever tricks to get them. Smarter birds like ravens could even pick up sticks to prise morsels from gaps they couldn't reach.

[Harbor]

Hannai sat on the barrel’s edge and swung her crossed ankles back and forth, thumping her heels against the age-softened wood as she filled one of her hands with bread crumbs and extended it off to her side, waiting for one of the birds who knew her better to flutter up from the sparse grains on the ground to the more deeply piled ones in her palm. Hannai grinned, slowly bringing her hand in until it and the bird rested on her apron. They didn’t always like being touched, the pigeons, but she could get away with stroking the toes or tail-feathers of some. They were all different colors, pigeons. Grays and iridescent, black and brown and white. You could tell which ones had bred with the nobles’ pet pigeons—they had the bits of white and pinkish-looking feathers, and the flashy, shiny streaks.

Hannai put some crumbs in Farria’s lap and tapped her knee with her marble so she could ask her—where are you living? She might be able to find her a job if she needed one. But she showed Farria the several noble-houses she cleaned six days of the week. At least a few of them were always in search of someone small person to help run messages throughout the house and between houses, and between houses and businesses. Farria looked like she’d be fast. Plus kids who grew up on the streets—or, likely in Farria’s case, in the wilderness—tended to know the quickest ways to and from a place, and how to get there and back without being caught, in case they carried something meant only for a certain pair of eyes or hands. She wasn’t sure about Sheratan though…. A large cat may not be welcome in the nobles’ houses. Nobles could be strange like that.

One of the pigeons left a warm, wet present on Hannai’s knee and she wiped it off with a dry leaf, sighing. This was the price she paid for the company of the birds. Worth it, though. Plus pigeon poop came out of cotton easy, if she got to it that day.

{Sorry, couldn’t think of anything else.}

[Quetzal]

((So sorry this took so long, I didn't notice you'd posted until I left!))

Seeing the pigeons hop readily into Hannai's hand surprised Farria. Birds were skittish creatures who avoided humans usually. Pigeons were about the only ones who had grown used to sharing their towns and cities with them. It worked to their benefit, allowing them the pickings of of townsfolk's rubbish. If Hannai fed them before these ones might have learned by now this girl would not harm them. Farria scattered a few crumbs then held out her own hand. Pigeons pecked at the crumbs on the floor but regarded those in her hand with suspicion. Among the cocktail of smells that came with a life in the wilderness must be a cat smell. She touched the simple minds of the birds and let them know she was a friend. One was then brave enough to take food from her outstretched hand, though it flew off again quickly in case she changed her mind.

Grown ups did not approve of little girls living on the road, but Hannai seemed less judgemental to care how she preferred living. She showed her the trees, the plains, the aimlessness. There was no goal right now. She just carried on existing until she found something exciting to do. The idea of work came across through the marble and she gave a shrug. That didn't sound too bad. Running between places, earning her keep, an actual bed to sleep in, no obligation to stay in one place should she decide enough was enough or think of more exciting prospects elsewhere. Sheratan could stay outside the city. It would be a shame not to see her as much but it wasn't too big a concern. Or perhaps a noble family might like the idea of having their important messages protected from prying eyes by a sharp-toothed beast. "Where do I find such employment?" she asked. There must be a few people needing messengers who she could watch for a couple of days before deciding which was best for her.

The inevitable happened when handling birds. Farria giggled as she watched the other girl clean it up. Perhaps it was a good thing after all no more had come to land on her.

[Harbor]

Noting that the pigeons, understandably, were less welcoming of Farria than they were of Hannai, who came here regularly to feed them, Hannai refilled one of her hands and laid it over Farria’s, so the birds saw her hand first and landed on it. When the crumbs were nearly gone, gently Hannai dislodged them, and dumped the last scrapes of stale bread into Farria’s hand. A few of the braver birds lit on her fingertips, which evidently were less threatening than sitting on her actual hand or wrist. Hannai smiled.

Hannai had mixed feelings about Farria’s life—it seemed lonely, all the wandering in places without a roof or even a straw mattress. Hannai had been shuffled from group to group after being sold by her family, but fewer than twenty nights in her life had been spent sleeping on the open ground, discounting her brief time traveling to and with the Varden, which she didn’t think counted. But it did sound nice sometimes—having a job was wonderful most of the time, but it did swallow most of her free daylight.

As Hannai scraped pigeon dung off her apron she mentally gestured in the general direction of the few places which she believed would welcome an ‘invisible’ message-runner. The post office sometimes, but not usually; the money-clerks’ offices; the properties management business; the law offices; the constable. She imagined Farria with and without Sheratan, wondering if Farria would want to bring her friend the overlarge cat with her. She wasn’t sure how other people would react to Sheratan, but most assuredly they’d not be accustomed to her quickly. But Sheratan would probably be a good help at night, when it was harder to see, and the less-friendly people tended to be out. She also asked, did Farria want to go ask these people if they had need of her now? Or should they wait? Or Hannai could go on her own first, if Farria wanted to continue making friends with the birds. And eating their fresher buns.

[Quetzal]

Compared to living rough in the wilds, the leisure to feed something other than herself was a luxury to Farria. She remembered the comfort of life with her family in the town, being looked after, too young to work more than be an extra hand for her parents. She was still lying to herself, saying she didn't like people when in truth they frightened her - the result of them being afraid or facinated by her. She smiled at the birds on her fingertips. They weighed scarcely anything. No wonder they could fly so high, they felt like little more than air with tiny claws themselves.

All stages in her life were temporary, so she assumed running messages would be the same. Still, that might be due to finding better work or promotion. It was a place for someone with her talents where no one would bat an eyelid. No one would probe and find out there was more going on than a girl very good at hiding. She could completely ignore there was any magic in her and nobody would ever be hurt accidentally by her again. Magic was too hard to control, that other form she could take had no sentient mind, they could bring nothing but pain. Instead of working all hours to find enough to eat, drink, and places to shelter, she could work for... well, the same things, but the food and shelter and drink would always be there to be found, be more comfortable, and the work would be more interesting.

She shrugged. Why not go straight away? She had nothing better to do. She touched Hannai's mind to let her know she knew too little of each of those places to mind which she worked for, and preferably wanted Sheratan near. Someone who might welcome a little extra protection about their house, which if they had secret messages to run probably meant someone in politics. "A noble politician, perhaps, or the constable," she suggested.

[Harbor]

Hannai cleaned house for a noble politician, so she dusted her smudged apron and fingertips as best she could and gestured, the pigeons scuttling out of her way as she darted into the crowd. Most people accustomed to living in or traveling through cities made room for children rushing through the streets, either because the children were thieves or they were all message-runners themselves, but the reasons never mattered much for Hannai, she was just glad she didn't get pushed around as much as she used to. In any sense.

Hannai knocked briskly on the door to Lord Verand's house, and within moments the butler answered it. His eyebrows rose when he saw Hannai and her companion. "Hannai. You're not due back for two more days."

Hannai held up her brown marble, and he laid his fingertips against it. Hannai worked to make words of her thoughts, as those were easier for most people to understand than her image-sensation thoughtstream, which Farria seemed accustomed to herself, likely because of Sheratan. My friend Farria needs work. She's good at running messages. She has protection and can hide and escape well. Does Lord Verand need anybody?

The butler curtly nodded. "I can ask him when he returns, and let you know. Would you like to come back on your regular day or tomorrow morning?"

My regular day, please. She may not have the time tomorrow.

He nodded. "I'll let him know, Hannai. Thank you, and good day."

Next they went to the constable, since Farria's suggestions were sound, and repeated the conversation, though with less formality. The constable had a number of children running errands or evidence for him, and since they came and went, he said, he was always happy to add a few more. Hannai had to specify again that Farria's protection wasn't human, but a pet (she mentally apologized to Farria, in case she was listening), and well able to defend herself and Farria. This struck the constable as odd, but he only shrugged, and said 'the girl's hound might come in handy'. Hannai decided not to correct him yet, and turned to smile at Farria.

[Quetzal]

Nervous excitement ran through Farria as she was led through the crowd. She focused on Hannai nimbly slipping through ahead of her, the large number of people pressing in on all sides of the short little girl making her extremely anxious. She felt claustrophobic every time she looked away from the other girl and saw a wall of people all a good two feet taller than her blocking out view of any escape. They hardly noticed her as she weaved between them. They were everywhere, they could easily crush her without thinking, she didn't stand a chance against any of them, or worse she might accidentally hurt one with magic. She noticed her breath was beginning to quicken and forced herself to take slow deep breaths. Look at Hannai. She is the only person here that matters. She is the only person here. The only person, she told herself.

Suddenly Hannai had led her right out the crowd and they emerged from the river of people onto a doorstep. The butler clearly knew her new friend, but she was more interested in the house behind. It was easily the most grand place she had ever seen. She stared in awe, then remembered why they were there and gave the butler a polite smile. People would not employ children if they thought them badly behaved.

The constable looked nice and with more children helping out she thought there would be less responsibility. There had been children before who she had seen watching people, running to tell someone else in return for a few coins. Children were excellent spies as they were very cheap and so difficult to train no one suspected them. She didn't want to speak with her mind to the constable in fear he would think her weird and not want her to work, so pointed at herself then her eyes. I watch. It took the constable a moment to understand, then he nodded. "You see things? If you can tell me what you see, it might pay." When Farria said nothing but nodded, he said "Looks like I won't have to worry about you making too much noise or telling people things you shouldn't, hm?" Farria nodded again and looked at Hannai. "Hound," she said mentally to the other girl, amusement clear in her mind. Why not leave the big white leopard as a nice surprise?