[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180127/164dc161ba422a26462099e99a19e31d.png[/img] [Hider=Post Info] [Color=#37c000][B]Location:[/b][/color] Fairy Isle [Color=#37c000][B]Tag:[/b][/color] [@HolySoldier] [Color=#37c000][B]Mention:[/b][/color] [Color=#ff0000]Grimjet[/color] [Color=#37c000][B]Summary:[/b][/color] Devan travels to the coast to visit Grimjet. [/Hider][/center] It was a beautiful day on the island. Devan decided to travel a little without her cart- sort of a vacation, though she still had a small tailors' kit with her, just in case. The sun was shining; a few stray clouds seemed to know exactly when to shuffle past for a quick, cool shadow. The breeze from the ocean was light and kept the day from being oppressive. So why did the hair on the base of Devan's neck just stand up? The fairy woman reached back to run her fingers through her white locks in hope of shaking the sensation and a cloud clearing from the sun seemed to help. Her pony shook his mane; little bells woven into the hair chimed and banished the last of the uneasy feeling. Devan patted his shoulder and turned down the road toward the coast. Reĝa was the largest city on the island, though by human standards it was barely a village. The population there essentially tripled when it hosted a market. According to rumour, it was also where another of her fellow Sins had ended up. Unfortunately, he was not fairy, so he had been executed. Still, something told Devan that she should go. Children's laughter drew her attention as she approached. On the beach the children were decorating a scarecrow with flower chains and shells. It took a moment for Devan to realize it wasn't a scarecrow or effigy, but what was left of a human. A few fragments of memory confirmed that this must be the remains of a Sin. [Color=#37c000]“Shoo! Go on, now! You don't where that's been!” [/color]The children scattered, giggling, and Devan called after them,[Color=#37c000] “Be sure to wash when you get home!”[/color] The Serpent Sin sighed. If only she could remember more than glimpses of a face. She avoided looking at the remains as she folded a small cup from a leaf; the fairies didn't decay like humans when they died and the desiccated husk of her old compatriot was a bit unsettling. Still, she had come this far and felt she should make a small offering for the dead, memories or not. The little cup finished she pulled a wineskin from the saddle bags. The leaf held barely a sip. Carefully pushing off with her toes, Devan levitated as her race was wont to do so she could reach and carefully tipped the small offering into what was left of the human's mouth. Devan landed, set the little cup at the base of the pole, and and started her way back up to the road.