Wrapped up warmly against the cold autumn air, Kayla had found herself wandering the festival stalls mostly on a whim. It wasn't too busy, of course; most people were working around now, whereas her shift didn't start for another few hours. None of it was especially refined or professional, but that was the point of all this, really. A community thing, where people could break out whatever crafts, personal projects, and home-cooked treats they'd been working on.

There were the regulars, the stalls that showed up year-in year-out with the same products, be they produce, homemade pottery, or the sweet stall that had provided her the bag of pick-and-mix she'd been snacking on as she wandered. And then there were the stalls that seemed to change every year, at least from the last couple times she'd been to the festival. Those were where she'd ended up wandering, her smile lazily content as she browsed over knitted scarves and homemade soaps.

She'd always enjoyed writing about the festival, although it'd be a while before she really got the chance to put an article together. Usually she'd wait until it was almost over before she bothered, for the sake of both having time to write it up and not accidentally sabotaging anyone with a bad review. Even if her blog was anonymous, bad blood wasn't something she wanted to cause, and most of the stuff looked fairly good. It took a good half-hour of wandering before she decided to sit down at the cafeteria - or rather, what passed for one. Really, it was just a series of food kiosks, set up near a collection of outdoor tables.

Most of the food was admittedly kind of overpriced, and the drinks definitely were, although they weren't really an issue for her anyway. Considering the temperatures, the convenience of not needing to wander off and find a cafe to get her hands on something warm kind of helped with her enthusiasm anyway. The setup was at least comfy enough for her to sit around for a little while, too. Relatively sheltered from the bone-chilling wind that the day had brought, with only the occasional gust passing through to remind her how lucky it was she'd decided to bring a heavy jacket.

After a slightly sceptical glance over a couple of the stalls, she ordered a hot chocolate and took a seat, watching the world go by as she slowly finished her drink. It was pretty interesting, just sitting around to watch people go about their business, although thinking about it in those terms did make it seem slightly weirder than it was. There was a face or two she recognised going to and fro - she spotted Andrew, one of her regulars, at the bottle bar; his sister would no doubt be somewhere around here too.

Of course, the people she recognised were inevitably outnumbered by those she didn't, even as she tried to keep track of the familiar faces passing by. Knowing everyone in a town as decently-sized as Drumvar was pretty much impossible, far as she cared to find out. It was bad enough trying to keep track of everyone that visited the bar, never mind anything else.

Soon enough she'd be on her way again, anyway. There were a couple hours before she'd have to head back to her apartment and get ready for work, and there was no reason not to at least try and make the most of them. Couldn't just sit around watching people forever, after all.

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Of course, even in the middle of a weekday Kayla wasn't the only person wandering the festival - a whole host of individuals could be seen exploring the market. Not far from the food kiosks, a woman laughed cheerfully from a stall practically drowning in colourful flowers and smelling of several dozen spices at once, while the blue-haired young woman she was serving stood with a polite - if faintly embarrassed - smile as she pulled out her purse, glancing around as if looking for someone.

Happy barks could be heard from the slightly stubby form of a dog being walked by a man with arms completely covered with tattoos, whose wide grin and cheerful greetings to those he passed seemed to match his dog's enthusiastic friendliness. The occasional passerby seemed to have very little choice but to stop and oblige the canine's unrelenting quest for pets, but most of them seemed happy enough about the distraction.

Towards the edge of the festival, the stalls began to thin out, giving way to Drumvar's usual storefronts. In the alley beside Charlie's, the man himself stood, smoke rising into the air from the cigarette in his hand as he enjoyed a quick break after the lunchtime rush. In the cafe itself, a smartly-dressed man sat alone, looking over something or other on his laptop as the employees cleared the tables around him. Outside the festival's boundaries, it seemed life simply went on as always, the daily routine continuing in a way that wouldn't be shaken by the yearly arrival of a few stalls.

Thomas was tired, he was sore, and he was most certainly ready for a long sleep. It was only 10:00 am local time so he would have to try and stay awake a little longer even though he'd been on the move for nearly 26 hours. That's what he got for being economical and booking the cheapest flight he could. Calgary to Toronto, on to Halifax, then London, into Glasgow, and now, finally, his train was pulling into Drumvar.

The town was much as he remembered it, though he had not been back in some time. Ever since the end of High School, when his obligatory summers at his mothers had come to an end, he hadn't been back more than once or twice. Now he found the old stone buildings somewhat comforting and relished the opportunity to enjoy some serious history once again.

The train around him was packed with students, most of them in their twenties. A few ignored him, some smiled at him, and more than a few had commented on the backpack and large duffle bag he had brought with him. He had deflected their good natured curiosity with a story about coming to the region to visit family before going on a hiking tour of the countryside.

This last statement had landed him no end of helpful suggestions and offers to accompany him if he wanted some company while out and about. Several young ladies had offered him their mobile numbers to boot. He had thanked them, smiled, laughed, and all the while he could not banish the spectre of his newfound wealth. Thomas had always been proud of his simple way of life, a way of life that had been created by the necessity of being poor, but that had changed. Dramatically.

The train lurched to a halt and the students tumbled off in an excited crowd. Thomas followed more slowly, backpack on his back, duffle bag over one shoulder. He was wearing shorts, a light hiking t-shirt, and Salomon hiking shoes, all of it marking him as someone who was most certainly not one of the students. Though his age, handsome features, and size certainly set him apart as a tourist.

He took his bags and made his way down to the bus stop that would take him further in to town but it was packed with students. He made his way further down the road, dropped his bags on the ground, and stuck out his thumb. Hitch hiking would do him just fine.

"You really are quite a good looking girl."

Ivonne was half asleep, as she heard the young man speaking.

"Huh?"

Her voice was groggy from snoring and the dry air in this strange apartment, or perhaps it was a dorm room. Becoming more awake quite rapidly, Ivonne turned towards the voice and was slapped in the face with the smell of morning breath. She scooted back, squinting her eyes a bit to figure out who this man was. She would admit that she wasn't entirely sure, but he wasn't terrible to look at so she didn't think too poorly of herself. Reaching backwards she felt for her glasses on the night table and placed them upon her face.

"You look better without glasses."

"So do you." she replied quickly.

She hated when people made that comment. It wasn't like she could help it, she had to wear them to see. She wasn't like some of the younger and more stylish girls in Drumvar who wore glasses for fashion and style. The man chuckled as he got up from the bed, he looked to the alarm clock where Ivonne had grabbed her glasses from and made a grunted noise. "You need to leave." Ivonne sat up in the bed, the blanket clutched around her petite body as she looked at him in shock. It wasn't that surprising to not want to be kept around for long, but he at least could have been kind about it.

"Not even going to offer me breakfast, huh?" she smirked, throwing the blanket off to reveal herself to the man. He opened his mouth to say something, but Ivonne wasn't going to let him have the chance. She picked up her items off the floor, getting dressed hurriedly as well as taking a decorative vase that was on the dresser. "Fucker." she huffed under her breath as she left the room and exited the building.

Looking up at the place she realized it was a dorm room, and she then gave a small prayer hoping he was of age. Freshman were getting so fresh that it was hard to tell the difference sometime. Ivonne could not drive nor did she know how to ride a bike- so walking and the bus were something she had gotten used to quickly. Her friends gave her rides pretty frequently as well, but she didn't want to bother them with her this early in the morning.

She began her walk home, a mile or so away from campus- it wasn't a pleasant walk but it could have been far worse. Arriving just a bit before afternoon hit. She climbed the stairs to her apartment and walked in, kicking off her boots- she made it no further than the couch before falling back asleep.

When she awoke a few hours later it was around 2:00PM. She felt sore as she moved her body around. Groaning as her arms stretched above her body in hope that, that alone would take out the kinks in her back and neck. It didn't, but the try was worthy enough for a reward to herself: a trip to the Town Centre for a slice of the festival that was going on. After showering, and changing her clothes Ivonned dressed warmly and made another trek, this time to the festival. The crowd of people welcomed her without saying anything, she felt home in Drumvar even though she hadn't been there for really that long. "Good morning!" she sung as she pointed to a hot pastry at one of the stands. The two exchanged goods, as she took a big bite. The chocolate ran down her chin, but she caught it before it could reach her clothing. While eating the pastry she found another booth to get something to drink from; a hot coffee. Standing off to the side she enjoyed her small lunch, looking around and taking in the people that happily and busily walked around.

Katarina was absolutely submerged in her work, not paying attention to anything around her and chewing on a pencil absent-mindedly. Her concentration was interrupted by quiet squealing and a few barks. She ran her hand through her hair nervously. “What, you want to go out again?” she turned to Lexie, who was watching her accusingly. “But it’s only…” Kat looked at the time and winced. Wow, was it already so late? Damn those Australians. Working on their project meant attending their Skype conferences, which wouldn’t be a problem, if it weren’t for the fact that they usually started at 2 or 3 AM for Kat. She hated having her regular schedule messed up like that.

She got up, stretched her back and yawned. Lexie licked her hand. “Yea, yea, I am coming. I just need to find something warmer to wear.” A quick search through her clothes revealed what she was afraid of – she was utterly unprepared for a winter in Scotland. She just now realized that it was a long time since she had spent a winter somewhere with actual snow, freezing temperatures, chilly wind and all those other fun things. She usually moved somewhere warmer – last year on Bali, the year before that it was southern Italy.

But for some reason she liked this place enough that she was willing to endure a winter here. She just needed to do some shopping, before her ears fall off or something like that.

She originally wanted to take a walk in the Glasvar park as usual, but rather large number of people on otherwise quiet street caught her attention. She followed a couple of them, curious about what is happening. A big sign above the street informed her that this is Drumvar’s annual Harvest festival. Of course, now she remembered she kept seeing adverts and posters announcing the event, pretty much ever since her arrival into the city.

“I’ve been working too much,” she mumbled to herself and crouched down to Lexie. “I know I have and I promise I will take a break after this project,” she said to the dog and scratched her behind her ear. Lexie barked excitedly, jumped to Kat and licked her face. “Let’s see what interesting can we buy with my hard-earned money.”

Kat walked along the stalls, peeking at the displayed goods here and there. She usually wasn’t into buying all those nice things people tend to put on shelves – anything that hadn’t practical use was just a pointless dust catcher. Finally, something caught her eye. An elderly lady was selling various hand-knitted goods, all warm and comfy and surprisingly not scratchy. Kat bought one of the large scarfs, then after a brief consideration, went back and added fluffy cap and warm gloves to her bag.

After that, she just followed her nose to find the source of the most beautiful smell in the world – coffee. She bought a large cup and sat down to one of the tables, sipping coffee with a blissful smile. Katarina nodded at a girl sitting a few tables from her, also warming her hands on a cup of some hot beverage. Lexie was lying under the table, apparently bored to death. Sometimes her ears twitched when she heard something interesting, like another dog barking, but otherwise she remained still.

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Annest drove her silver hatchback too fast, windows rolled down. The freezing wind cut her cheeks as it blew, throwing her hair around wildly, at times slightly obscuring her vision. None of this bothered her, however; she was too busy singing along to the Smile-dk CD, volume way too high, to notice the cold or the pain. Bobbing her head back and forth, her less-than-melodic voice barely projected loud enough for herself to hear over the synthesized pop music, entertaining herself as she drove in the general direction of home.

Coming from what was supposed to be an early morning portrait session, Annest was, for once, presentable in appearance, her blue blouse and black trousers shielded by a long grey coat, her eyes obscured by large, round sunglasses. She drove barefoot, her thin nylons the only barrier between her and the cold plastic; her low-heeled shoes were kicked carelessly into the bottom of the passenger seat. Her beloved camera, by contrast, was placed carefully and lovingly, buckled into the seat to keep it safe. The rest of her equipment almost completely filled the rest of her car, the back seats folded down to create extra space. She was alone for once - Grandfather was well enough to take care of young Noah this morning - hence her current speed, volume and general carelessness while driving down the road.

Up ahead, she saw a man with his thumb toward the road. She glanced at her wristwatch. Her intent was to go home and pick up her nephew, take him out for a day at the festival; but her client cancelled at the last moment (the absolute last moment), freeing up her entire day and giving her plenty of time for a side trip. She turned her music down and slowed the car as she approached him.

As she rolled to a stop, Annest looked him over, noting just how large he was. She frowned, hesitating to speak for a moment; not for fear of her safety - no, that didn't even cross her mind - but because she wasn't even sure that this bear of a man would be able to fit properly in her already-mostly-full city car. Then she noticed how he was dressed - shorts, in this weather? The man must be mad or desperate. Reaching over across the seat, she pushed the car door open and smiled lightly. "Where to, Mountain Man?" She asked as she reached forward to collect her shoes and camera. Scanning the back of the car, she found a safe place for her camera and an out-of-the-way spot to tuck her shoes, then rolled up the windows and flicked on the heat. "Might be a bit of a squeeze, sorry about that."

@The Wyrm

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Thomas did not mind the wait as minutes ticked by. The sun was out, which he knew was a bit of luck at this time of year along the Atlantic coast. The wind was not cold, just mildly cool, as it flowed over him and he took deep breaths of the fresh air, glad to be away from the crush of people, the stink of humanity, that always came with travelling on airplanes or public transit.

He reckoned he had been roadside for thirty minutes or so, the bus of waving students long gone, and was just considering walking back to the bus stop to get the next ride when a small silver hatchback careening down the road, the sound of some sort of techno music he had never heard before. Still, the driver, a young woman with blonde hair that was whipping violently in the wind as she drove.

To his surprise she slowed as she approached, clearly giving him a once over and judging his suitability as a passenger. He could see she was petite and her car was sized to match. The back was loaded with all sorts of gear that looked like it might belong to a photographer. That was promising. He usually got along well with artistic types, as long as they weren't painters. He couldn't wrap his head around most painted art these days. The music quieted as the car ghosted closer and he smiled as he made eye contact with the driver.

The vehicle finally came to a stop and the driver gave him another look, a small frown on her face. He was concerned for a brief moment but then she reached across the drivers seat and shoved open the door. He had to take a step back to avoid the edge as it nearly smacked him in the face at the same moment he had bent down to speak with the driver.

"Where to Mountain Man?" Her accent was Scottish, a proper local then. That was perfect. She had pulled a camera from the front seat, along with a pair of shoes and was stuffing them into the back. "Might be a bit of a squeeze, sorry about that." She said with a grin, the windows sliding up and a delicate finger snapping on the heat.

"In to town, please. Though..." He glanced into the already filled vehicle. "My gear might be a tight fit. That alright?"

She looked at his bags, looked at him, into the back and then nodded. "Sure, just careful of my camera."

He nodded, thanked her, and grabbed his big duffle bag which he carefully wedged into the back of the hatchback, completely obscuring her rear window. Then he stuffed himself and his backpack into the front seat, the small cars shocks groaning at the weight.

It took him a couple tries to get the door closed but at last he was in, knee's up on the dashboard, heat blasting his bare legs, head tilted slightly against the roof so he could fit. He gave the driver a grin.

"The names Thomas. Last chance to say no and give your poor car a rest."

@mercenarius