FFXIVWrite 2023 #2: Bark

The hawking in the streets of Ul'dah had always struck a chord with the young woman - she'd come from a tribe of merchants, craftsmen, and dealmakers of all stripes, and every stop at a trading post or village had come with the barking of the salesmen and the jackals alike.

Perhaps that's why it stung even more than the rejection from the Shroud had - sure, she'd still be glad to burn the damned place down, but at least she could agree with their 'mystical forest spirits' - she didn't belong there, hemmed in by trees on all sides.

The hot, open air of the desert, and the sticky press of skin-and-fabric in the markets - the ebb and flow of civilization; beaches weren't the only place you could watch tides. She may not be Ul'dahn born, but she was merchant-borne, and Jak could watch the crowds swell and recede - and the day's ebb and flow of gil, consequently. As a child, what else had there been to do, but watch? Before things had gotten bloody, this din had been the sort of thing that spoke to new opportunities, new experiences... wondrous wares, if only you've got the gil.

Perhaps that's why this place had called to her - perhaps that was why it was easier to walk the streets of Ul'dah, than the streets of Ala Mhigo, or the deserts of Gyr Abania. It was familiar - but it wasn't quite home. It didn't cut to the quick in the same way that going home would.

And far too many Mhigans had ended up here, in just as shitty a position as she'd been in - so who would she be, then, if she just left them here - how she'd been left by her own twin? Hadn't it struck her deeply just to see war orphans struggling on the streets of Kugane? How could she turn her gaze from those so like her, here in this place where she knew exactly how they felt? - how they struggled.

FFXIVWrite 2023 #2: Bark

The hawking in the streets of Ul'dah had always struck a chord with the young woman - she'd come from a tribe of merchants, craftsmen, and dealmakers of all stripes, and every stop at a trading post or village had come with the barking of the salesmen and the jackals alike.

Perhaps that's why it stung even more than the rejection from the Shroud had - sure, she'd still be glad to burn the damned place down, but at least she could agree with their 'mystical forest spirits' - she didn't belong there, hemmed in by trees on all sides.

The hot, open air of the desert, and the sticky press of skin-and-fabric in the markets - the ebb and flow of civilization; beaches weren't the only place you could watch tides. She may not be Ul'dahn born, but she was merchant-borne, and Jak could watch the crowds swell and recede - and the day's ebb and flow of gil, consequently. As a child, what else had there been to do, but watch? Before things had gotten bloody, this din had been the sort of thing that spoke to new opportunities, new experiences... wondrous wares, if only you've got the gil.

Perhaps that's why this place had called to her - perhaps that was why it was easier to walk the streets of Ul'dah, than the streets of Ala Mhigo, or the deserts of Gyr Abania. It was familiar - but it wasn't quite home. It didn't cut to the quick in the same way that going home would.

And far too many Mhigans had ended up here, in just as shitty a position as she'd been in - so who would she be, then, if she just left them here - how she'd been left by her own twin? Hadn't it struck her deeply just to see war orphans struggling on the streets of Kugane? How could she turn her gaze from those so like her, here in this place where she knew exactly how they felt? - how they struggled.

FFXIVWrite 2023 #2: Bark

The hawking in the streets of Ul'dah had always struck a chord with the young woman - she'd come from a tribe of merchants, craftsmen, and dealmakers of all stripes, and every stop at a trading post or village had come with the barking of the salesmen, and the jackals alike.

Perhaps that's why it stung even more than the rejection from the Shroud had - sure, she'd still be glad to burn the damned place down, but at least she could agree with their 'mystical forest spirits' - she didn't belong there, hemmed in by trees on all sides.

The hot, open air of the desert, and the sticky press of skin-and-fabric in the markets - the ebb and flow of civilization; beaches weren't the only place you could watch tides. She may not be Ul'dahn born, but she was merchant-borne, and Jak could watch the crowds swell and recede - and the day's ebb and flow of gil, consequently. As a child, what else had there been to do, but watch? Before things had gotten bloody, this din had been the sort of thing that spoke to new opportunities, new experiences... wondrous wares, if only you've got the gil.

Perhaps that's why this place had called to her - perhaps that was why it was easier to walk the streets of Ul'dah, than the streets of Ala Mhigo, or the deserts of Gyr Abania. It was familiar - but it wasn't quite home. It didn't cut to the quick in the same way that going home would.

And far too many Mhigans had ended up here, in just as shitty a position as she'd been in - so who would she be, then, if she just left them here - how she'd been left by her own twin? Hadn't it struck her deeply just to see war orphans struggling on the streets of Kugane? How could she turn her gaze from those so like her, here in this place where she knew exactly how they felt? - how they struggled.