Fedosia walks around the North side. She ‘trips’ over the pavement, falling into the arms of a slightly older man. “Oh dear. I’m so sorry.” She smiles apologetically, allowing herself to shiver a little; her thin coat wasn’t near enough to ward off the cold and wind. “Would you like to come inside, warm up?” 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. “What are you-? Hey!” 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.