Fedosia walks around the North side. She ‘trips’ over the pavement, falling into the arms of a slightly older man. [color=f49ac2]“Oh dear. I’m so sorry.” [/color] She smiles apologetically, allowing herself to shiver a little; her thin coat wasn’t near enough to ward off the cold and wind. [color=f26522]“Would you like to come inside, warm up?”[/color] Fedosia uses her practiced smile of gratitude, but her attention is elsewhere. Sounds of a struggle was heard from a nearby house, a merchant’s house that she’d been invited to on occasion. She looks up just as a man in a sack is being thrown into a carriage, and she gasps softly. Her target looks in the same direction, but now that the carriage was pulling away, doesn’t see anything. [color=f26522]“What are you-? Hey!”[/color] Fedosia had taken advantage of the man’s distraction, and she’d taken a money pouch hanging from his waist and taken off. The man follows her, and she ducks into a small shop in a side street. She watches the carriage from the window, wondering what on earth was going on, and if there was maybe a way she could benefit.