Faces of the City (Saphone)

[Quetzal]

Working was never something Farria thought she would enjoy, but the girl had to admit so far this was proving quite fun. The bustling city had scared her for so long, but now she was learning its streets, predicting the typical flows of its streams of people. Not everywhere was as packed as she had first assumed. There were nice quiet places to relax, streets where few people went, places no one ever got attacked, though never anywhere as peaceful as the wild lands she had roamed before coming back to Uru'baen. She missed the silence, the trees, the animals, and being able to have Sheratan at her side the whole time, but there were perks to the city. Here there was a soft warm bed in a safe house, food, water, and a little money, so long as she kept working for the old diplomat. The noble was a nice enough man with some questionable practices that necessitated someone to deliver messages or occasionally do something slightly less legal like spy on someone, steal or tinker with something, all without being seen. Now that was Farria's speciality. Ever since she had become a warg, she had been able to go anywhere completely undetected. It wasn't quite being invisible, it was simply a knack at not being noticed and knowing where was most hidden and most silent.

The mute child was on one of her jobs now, weaving through a crowd. She didn't need to be unseen now but no one was paying her any notice anyway. Just another small, skinny, dirty kid, after all. The people were becoming more densely packed together. Concerned she might be accused of pickpocketing or stealing from one of the stalls occasionally popping up on street corners, and loving to climb, she slipped into an alley she knew was quiet and scrambled up the wall using cracks, drains, and windows as hand- and footholds, nimble as a cat.

On the roof she was sure-footed as a mountain goat. Walking along up here felt more free. It was a blissful sensation to look down on the world, more fun to have the added challenge of climbing over things. Roofs kept a boring walk interesting. Obviously if anyone looked up they would immediately question why she was there. It was a suspicious place to be after all. People tended not to look directly up at the roof, but they were only three or so stories high so in people's vision if they were more than a few feet away from the building. They would be drawn to notice her by her movement if she weren't so good at hiding. Most thieves only took to the roofs at night when darkness rendered them invisible - she had crossed paths with some so many times they now always gave each other a smile or whispered advice when they saw each other. The regulars of the rooftops were few as not many risked braving the roofs or thieving so often they risked capture.

Today was fairly standard. Some of the people who went by she recognised as she made it her business to know the people of the city. Those she did not know the name of she had her own names for; Getcher Veggies the grocer was shouting his usual spiel; the Sneery Priest was causing a slight traffic jam with his slow shuffle of a walk; Hat Lady was hitting other people in the face with one of her classic enormous-rimmed hats. Farria jumped across a side street then paused and turned back, looking down it. There was a man down there who looked vaguely familiar. Her mind told her he was vaguely important somehow, and he was dressed nice. A frown creased her face and after a moment of thinking she concluded she was fairly certain he had been a Varden Rider before Galbatorix had died. Being mute, she could not shout down to him, so instead she tentatively reached out to touch his mind.