Visyn
Angstyrainbow
ScreenAcne
ColdAtlas
Ladypug
Sp00ki
ghostface9961
BayRat
TlstifflLark 
Trying to ignore her stomach's incessant growling, Lark's eyes caught sight of a particularly peculiar-walking man, unable to take her eyes off of him for a moment. He was handsome, rugged-looking, and obviously intoxicated, but if he was part of the sea crowd, that didn't surprise her. It was a custom for ship crews to drink as soon as they hit land; Lark remembered hearing something about it helping them grow more accustomed to solid ground.
Not being one to judge, she watched the man with interest flavouring her honeyed eyes. She had always been a little envious of sea dwellers, both magical and mundane, for the sea looked so much more promising, so much more free than Bristdale. Sure, the port was full of possibilities, if you had the right coin. For someone like Lark, it was a prison, a ball and chain fastened to her ankle, their metallic clinking the same as it was in her cup of meager coins. It was all a trap for her. Out there, though, adventure was waiting behind ever wave. Money didn't matter to them, or did it? She wasn't sure what their culture was like.
It had to have been promising, though, judging by the pirate's next actions. To this day, he was one of only a tiny handful of people to approach her, and the only one yet to offer her food. At first, the man startled her with his sudden stumble, her body jolting in response. She had just watched him shove past one of the peasants who had snatched her coin, and while she appreciated it, Lark was a little hesitant to trust the man outright. His offerings, however, silenced all that reluctance. Not one roll, not two, but three sweetrolls he offered to her. It was so beautiful that the female started to tear up, her small hands reaching up to grasp one of the delicious bread hunks.
It practically melted in her mouth as soon as her tongue met the spongy flesh of the roll, its sweet flavour sending her tastebuds into a chorus of happiness. For a moment, she just listened to him speak, enjoying the roll to the last bite.
"You treat me with a kindness I haven't seen the likes of in a while, stranger," she murmured finally, shying away from the rest of the bread, "but I cannot accept the rest. Indulgence is not something I should get used to. Besides, you were the one to buy them. You should have the majority." Even in the face of famine, Lark refused to take all of the bread, leaving the last two rolls to him. "I hope you do not take this as an offensive gesture. The gods smile upon your generosity." Her smile was bright against her dirty skin and matted hair, almost as bright as those golden irises of hers.
She looked down at herself, wondering what about her resembled an avian creature. Perhaps it was how thin she was? If the wind wished, it surely could pick her up and fling her to and fro, as if it hadn't done so already, but she wouldn't comment on that. Instead, she looked up at him with her large eyes. "May I ask why you chose to take pity on me?"