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estdeus_innobis2008-10-24 06:54 pm
valda-excolo.livejournal.com) wrote in estdeus_innobis2008-10-24 06:54 pm
Entry tags:
Are you there Freyja? It's me...Valda.
Day 68, Friday August 7th, Noon
It's been a while since I settled in Excolo. Or actually, outside of Excolo. I honestly don't think anyone knows I'm here.
I took the dogs out this morning for a run. Pigby, the little runt, continued to remind me why I gave him that name when he found a vein of truffles this afternoon. It's really too bad I don't care for cooking. Other than stews and pasty, which I admit is stew in a pie crust, I never bothered to learn how it was daddy's cooks made all those delicious treats. I wonder if anyone in town would want them?
Town...I really can't avoid it any longer. My apothecary jars are packed to the brim, as are the canisters in my pathetic excuse for a kitchen. The horses and dogs don't care about Mint, or Sakix Alba, or Valerian root in their food, so there's no one left around here to use it. But selling it in town means that I must first go into town. And meet people. They'll know I don't fit in.
My clothes will be different, they'll be suspicious if my hair isn't right. What if the women are supposed to wear that paste on their faces? I've never worn that! They'll know I don't belong here...they'll shun me. I won't know their customs, their etiquette...what if I offend someone? What if it's someone of importance? Are they still burning people at the stake? I always preferred beheadings to burnings...there just seemed to be more dignity and honor. It's more of a warrior's death than a public torturing.
At long last, I make my decision. I must go to town. But that doesn't mean I'm happy about it.
What am I going to wear?
[CLOSED]
It's been a while since I settled in Excolo. Or actually, outside of Excolo. I honestly don't think anyone knows I'm here.
I took the dogs out this morning for a run. Pigby, the little runt, continued to remind me why I gave him that name when he found a vein of truffles this afternoon. It's really too bad I don't care for cooking. Other than stews and pasty, which I admit is stew in a pie crust, I never bothered to learn how it was daddy's cooks made all those delicious treats. I wonder if anyone in town would want them?
Town...I really can't avoid it any longer. My apothecary jars are packed to the brim, as are the canisters in my pathetic excuse for a kitchen. The horses and dogs don't care about Mint, or Sakix Alba, or Valerian root in their food, so there's no one left around here to use it. But selling it in town means that I must first go into town. And meet people. They'll know I don't fit in.
My clothes will be different, they'll be suspicious if my hair isn't right. What if the women are supposed to wear that paste on their faces? I've never worn that! They'll know I don't belong here...they'll shun me. I won't know their customs, their etiquette...what if I offend someone? What if it's someone of importance? Are they still burning people at the stake? I always preferred beheadings to burnings...there just seemed to be more dignity and honor. It's more of a warrior's death than a public torturing.
At long last, I make my decision. I must go to town. But that doesn't mean I'm happy about it.
What am I going to wear?
[CLOSED]