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Random location(#3155RJ)

Tall trees tower up into the sky, spreading their branches wide to
gather in the sun. Squirrels and chipmunks and birds of all kinds are
scattered along the treelimbs, their noise a sweet, soft background
hum. Beneath the trees are lush bushes, producing strawberries and
blueberries in abundance when they run along meadows full of springy
green grass. Other bushes are simply green expressions of life's
strength, as are the smaller plants and small trees scattered between
the giants of the forest. Along the ground, rabbits and deer and elk
and numerous other forest creatures walk the paths, with no
consciousness of possible danger. The sky is clear of clouds, a bright
blue showing the clear yellow sun during the day, and at night bright
pinpoints of stars, and the moons of the Garou in the heavens, all
five at once: full and crescent, gibbous and half, and a
barely-glimpsed glow reflecting Earth's own reflection of the sun's
rays back to the ground.
Contents:
Rholeen
Girdeon
Eligio Sacateca
Cyllan
Patrick
Saravis
Ananda

The group of Garou and its lone unicorn walk through the woods. The
smeels of the camp reach them within what seems to be fifteen or
twenty minutes of walking; either the humans have come closer, or the
spirit world has had its normal disregard of time and space. Andrea
answers, "Just over the next hill, past the fallen oak. They're in
that clearing near the pond."

Cyllan checks her outfit, runs her hands through her hair and then
grins. "Do I look okay?"

Rholeen chuckles and nods to Cyllan. "You look fine. Gee, wouldn't it be
a twist if they are like twenty feet talk and speak Swedish?"

Andrea glances over her shoulder. Her mismatched eyes twinkle, but Rho
has saved her from an answer. She smells the air and says wistfully to
Patrick, "Their pastries look kind of like baklava."

Patrick hmms. "What do they *taste* like, though?"

Cyllan says "We're hardly going to find out standing here, now are we?"
The girl breaks into a fast trot. "Well, come on!"

Rholeen follows at a leasurely pace on the off chance they are cannibals
every other Friday...

Umbral Flea Market(#2905RFJ)

Smells of pastries and sausages give this bustling camp the air of a
fantasy country fair, as do the evidences of hand-crafted goods here
and there. The humans are unusually varied for such a small sampling:
a girl with Mongolian features listens at the feet of an older
Caucasian woman, and children both dark and light play games that seem
to involve a great deal of running and tagging with slender sticks.
The atmosphere is friendly and relaxed, much like a craft fair on a
warm Sunday afternoon in spring.

Cyllan hesitates on the edge of the crowd, eyes growing wide as she sees
just how busy it is. City streets aren't like this at all.

Patrick sniffs deeply as he steps into the village. "Man. Smells
*wonderful*!""

Rholeen approaches cautiously, and peers around from behind Cyllan and
Patrick. "Weird. I was sorta expecting something a bit smaller. Like a
few wagons."

Andrea grins and nods. "Much as I like the lupus, it will be nice to get
a /cooked/ meal." She moves forward, a few humans raising hands in
greetings as if they recongize her. The faces turned toward the Garou
are welcoming, friendly. A man steps forward, tall and broad with a
thick head of brown hair, "Welcome to the Romtov camp."

Patrick bows deeply to the man, then quickly checks his pockets before
realizing once again where he is. "Sorry," he says apologetically.
"Old habit."

Rholeen hangs behind the rest of the garou, using them as a portable
barrier between her and the friendly humans as she continues to look
around.

Cyllan slips out from behind Patrick and trails over to look at a
selection of dresses. The woman standing next to them smiles and
offers to help the Uktena try one on, but the girl recoils, shakes her
head and flees back to the group.

Cyllan remains next to Rholeen, looking around until she is finally
tempted by the sight of some woolen rugs. "Quiet? How...how would I
buy something here?"

Patrick wanders over to one of the sellers and looks over her wares. He
tries on a couple of rings, and finally seems to decide on one. "So
... what could I give you for one of these puppies?" he asks, pointing
to the one still on his finger.

Rholeen moves away from the group before she hears the answer, and seems
to be following her nose. Walking over the a brightly colored tent-ish
shop, she waves slighhtly to one of the people working there. After
she gets some attention, she gives then a sad, puppydog look. "Hi
there. Gee...could I maybe have a taste of that sausage muffin thing?
Just a little. I...I don't have any money, but it's been -so- long
since I've had anything to eat." She ponders trembling her lip, but
realizes that might be overdoing it.

The earthy-looking woman whom Rholeen's addressing gives a hearty laugh.
"Why, and you all skin and bones? But come now, surely you've got
something to barter?"

Andrea chuckles, then whispers to Patrick. "Try offering a cute one a
dance. Maybe that will work."

Patrick snorts and stage-whispers back, "Only the females, though."

Rholeen shakes her head sadly, and turns her jeans pockets carefully
inside out. "Everything I have I left far away. But...I do have my
gold earrings. They were given me by my grandmother, but...you can
have them. Anything, just for a little something to eat..." She then
fumbles at one of her earrings, like she'd actually hand one over.

Andrea winks at Patrick, but doesn't verbally contest that. She begins
to sidle up to another woman, different than the one Rholeen is
casing, who tends a tray of pastries.

Rholeen's victim emits a clucking sound from her tongue, though her
eye's a bit sharp. "Ah, I couldna take that, not for just a mere meal.
How about your fine sun-hat, instead? I'd think that'd suit my Lana
fine, and it's got an omen of good luck on it, now, don' it?" She
points at Rholeen's baseball cap.

Andrea smiles winningly at the woman. "Could I have three of those, for
myself and my friend here?" She indicates Patrick and Rholeen.

The pleasant-looking lady just smiles at Andrea for a moment. "Why, most
certainly, dear. With payment. Tit for tat, you know, dearie."

Andrea seems to consider that, chewing her lip thoughtfully. "Well, I do
know a few lines of poetry..."

Rholeen takes her hat off, and looks down at it. "I...I don't know. It's
not mine, you see. A friend let me borrow it cause I have a hard time
in the hot sun. But...sure. I mean, the last time I fainted it
probably wasn't the heat like they said. I just don't know what I'll
tell my friend when I get back..."

The pleasant lady laughs musically, the sound rippling around her for a
moments before being diffused by the noises of the rest of the trading
all around. "Nice for yourself, pumpkin, but you'll need more for two
more. Mayhap you can sing for your supper, dear?"
The first woman laughs merrily and picks up a rather tasty-looking
pastry, looking like she means to stop Rholeen's mouth instead. "None
of that, now, girl, or I'll make ye work here instead to foil the
other customers. Here, I'll make tha a bit of a travel-pouch...tha'll
be wantin' more than one kind, so tha'rt sure to come back wantin'
more!"

Andrea frowns, as if the woman is getting the better of her in the
bargin. "Well... I suppose I could. A short song." She smiles, then,
"Any requests as to subject?"

The lady shakes her head and closes her eyes. "Sing of life, of anything
that would make you happy to sing. The gift is in the feeling, dearie,
not in the words."

Rholeen looks thrilled, and smiles winningly at the shopkeeper. "Ok,
thank you! I'm sure I'll be back later, too. This really -is- a
wonderful land." She then stops herself before going too overboard,
puts her hat back on, and waits for her food.

Jess looks around, obviously suprised.

Andrea thinks for a moment. Then a smile breaks across her face. She
takes in a deep breath and stands straight. Her mouth opens and she
begins with the lilting melody from the song from _Guys and Dolls_, "I
love you, a bushel and a peck...."

Jess approaches Andrea, smiling in confusion. "Andrea-rhya, what is this
place?" Her words drop off as Andrea begins to sing.

Aliaste nuzzles Jess gently with her horn. "Shh, let her sing for her
supper, first." Almost immediately, a young boy hawking ribbons and
scarves edges over to Jess, holding up a crooked staff too display his
wares.

Jess smiles, looking down at the boy. She crouches to put herself on eye
level with him. "Oh, how lovely!"

The first pastry woman makes a neat bundle in a plain white cloth of
several small pastries, plush a skin of water and some fruits. She
holds out a hand to Rholeen. "Here tha art. How about that hat, now?"

Jess smiles, tilting her head. "How much?"

Patrick seems finally to come to some sort of bargain with the
ringseller. Another man comes out of a nearby tent, two squirming
towheaded urchins in tow. Patrick grins at the little imps, and shifts
upwards. Strangely, or maybe not so strangely, no one has any soret of
major reaction, though a few people look over at the crinos-form.
Patrick contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Patrick shifts into Crinos form.

The lad, dressed only in half-breeches, smiles shyly up at Jess. "Oh, I
don't know. The ribbons are from a far, far land, and maybe you have
something from far away to trade for it, and.." he trails off, looking
over at Patrick wide-eyed. "Wow."

Jess smiles, glancing over at Patrick. She quickly pats down her meager
possessions...

Rholeen looks up at the woman with slowly dawning shock, and shakes head
head. "Oh, I'm so sorry. What was I thinking. Of course,,,the hat."
She take it off, and almost hands it over, and then sighs. "I...just
don't know. I mean, what will I tell him. That I was hungry so I
handed over his hat? The one he got for joining the army? I can't even
picture him without it. He never took it off since he got back
from...the war. Not until I told him about the journey I was going on.
Then he just handed it to me, like it was just a hat. Just something
he had just bought the day before." Rho then slowly continues her pack
of lies. "I wouldn't take it, cause I knew what it meant to him. But
he just said it would keep me safe until I returned it to him." She
then looks down at the hat, twisting it slightly in her small
hands...lost to her own thoughts.

Jess pulls her hands out of her pocket, emerging with a pocketknife, a
bandana, a book of matches, and a couple of dollar bills and quarters.
Jess says "Hmmmm. See anything ya like?"

The boy drags himself back from his eye-popping scrutiny of the furry
guy, and sniffs over Jess' offerings. His brows knit at the box of
matches. "What's this? Smells funny."

Whitestreak scoops up the children, one in each arm, and takes off into
the sky, the little urchins giggling and laughing, occasionally
screaming in mock-terror as he climbs high over the trading camp, then
swoops down low, barely over the tops of the tents.

Andrea finishes her song. The woman chuckles and hands over the
pastries, glancing up at the flying crinos. "My word!"

Jess looks at the boy, then the matches. "They are matches? They make
fire? Ya have to be very very careful with them... Maybe we'd better
trade for something else. I wouldn't want ya to accidentally burn
something down..."

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