... Somehow, Allie had found her way back to the flowers again. Though she's been through this part of the market, before, it never hurts to take a second pass through, as her walking takes on an air of wandering. There's no rush, floating to the florals that are gathered and bundled into the sweetest convenient bunches, just begging to be taken home. The fairy girl's wondering how many she could feasible walk around with when she feels suddenly overcast by a great deal of shadow, and she looks up from the carefully plucked flowers to see who's stood next to her, shivering as she meets the dark of his eye. Something feels ... wrong, here. Terribly unsettling and cold in the same way iron is- fear.
But what has Allie got to be afraid for? Nothing's the matter at all, and she's acting strangely despite the natural peace of the day. The question of what's wrong with her becomes answerable for another day, as Allie tries for her friendliest smile. " They're so pretty. " She mutters, quietly, to the fellow admirer of the flowers. " And well-loved, too. You can tell. "
