} dye {
fossilflame
At that time of day, the market is full of people, noise and life even a ghost like the prince can feel a small spark inside him. He walks among them and they do not give him more than a look. As leaves on a tree, they come and go with the winds, never to stop by a single place. The smell of spicy is so strong he cannot even think about other things if not the colorful goods exposed right before his eyes.
He is just wandering around, waiting for the time to pass, his head clear of any thoughts but those always persistent, when a man motions for him from a stand full of scarves and other trinkets. The vendor is smiling and Rasler cannot go away without even a look. Dyed of so many colours, some of them have little medals that sounds as the falling rain. So bright, so many... which of those scarves his widow would love best? Golden, red... before, he would know exactly what to buy her, but now... it crushes his soul to realize he do not know her anymore. Is salmon her favorite colour still?
“Pardon me, sir...” He turns to a man he do not recognize. “If you had to gift a beloved one, which one of those would you choose?”
