Dante had been traveling the streets of his new home. He’d only been to New York a few times over the many years of his long life, and he was desperate to get the lay of the land. He’d walked up and down the numbered streets, recording everything he deemed worthy in the back of his mind. He found himself in the heart of Brooklyn by mid-day.
He noticed a small group gathered, and his curiosity pulled him across the congested seats. It was one of the millions of buskers that had made their homes in New York. However, this one seemed to have some serious talent. It was a young- warlock! Oh, now that was interesting. What was a warlock doing busking? Sure, she could dance, but why? Surely she could just conjure whatever her heart desired.
He leaned back against a railing while he watched, impressed. He watched her go for a few songs as crowds came and gone, when she seemed to be wrapping up, he moved, dropping a fifty in the hat that was placed in front of where she’d been dancing.
“ Please tell me you are not putting that on your head, ” he said as a way of greeting. “ New York streets and what not. ”
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