Ekk carries fuzzy memories of their early childhood, filled with many many siblings and a stone faced mother before it was engulfed in red and ended abruptly. But there are other memories that layer over that lost path. That of being adopted by a halfling parent whom she loves dearly. Of playing with the other children in the neighborhood, an ordinary upbringing filled with support. One of the sweat covering her brow as she grew up on a farm and paved the beliefs of hard work and a simple life. Even more so the memory of flickering candle light and sorrowful guilt filling the room upon learning about the attacks on Sanhar. Soon following would come a memory of the smell of the ocean under her nose when she left to seek a past she wasn't sure she wanted to find again - And the memory of the cry of relief when she didn't... There is no more unoriginal story of that of a transplant child trying to forget their past and find their future. But what happens when you take that story and wash it in doubt and kindle it with passion? Would you go on living as if nothing had happened? Find comfort in the things and people around you? Or would you scour the world for truth?
Ekk's eyes seem to glide over the bazaar once again as if the well dressed man wasn't there - Taking in the bright bustling sights and strong smells again before returning to the man intruding upon their vision. Ekk eyes over his fancy garb in suspicion and confusion.
"Why do you inquire of me?"
A pause, as they try to find the words on their tongue. Their speech seems halted, either daft or contemplative.
"I am not of much fanciness to you. Nor do I have money to buy things if you are trying to sell."
...
There seems to be a stare off that last no longer than a few seconds when Ekk gives a sigh and relents, remembering their manners.
"Work. I'm looking for work.."
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