(Situation: Itria, her mother passed, now goes to a foreign city to venture the world.)
Blinding light reflected off of the crashing waves, harassing the eyes of Itria Da’Toren. She slightly squinted, raising a hand to reflect her sight as she made her way into a nearby market – maybe someone would be able to help her there. As she lowered her hand, a man (well-dressed, may she add) approached her and started asking her questions, warmly smiling down at her. A small chill went up her spine as she stumbled around her words, sheepishly smiling back. What did he want, really? No one was this friendly – especially not here.
“I-.. I do not know, exactly,” she glanced off to the side, checking her environment. “I just.. wish to stay safe. To...” her voice trailed off. “To start my life, perhaps.”
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