Its the Little Things

Trinity

Trinity, a simple young farm girl, had spent her 23 years immersed in the tranquil beauty of the countryside, yet with a heart that yearned for a love that had eluded her thus far. She had grown up under the vast blue skies and golden fields, finding solace in the whispers of the wind and the gentle melodies of the birds. There was a purity to her spirit, a naivety that remained untouched by the harshness of the world. 

Despite the passage of time, and the whispers of well-meaning neighbors and friends about potential suitors, Trinity had never experienced the soft embrace of love. She watched as the seasons changed, as the blooms of spring gave way to the golden hues of autumn, her heart heavy with a longing she couldn't quite name. Her days were filled with the simple tasks of farm life, her hands calloused from hard work, her eyes reflecting the wisdom that comes from a life lived close to the land. None of the suiters that presented themselves to her were of any interest to her, why would they be? She was capable of doing the work herself and didn't really need the support.

Yet, there was a quiet strength in Trinity, a resilience that belied her delicate appearance. Though she had never been loved in the way that society often romanticized, she had known a different kind of love - the love of the earth, the love of the animals that roamed her family's land, the love of the sun that warmed her face each morning. And perhaps, in that love, she had found a contentment that many searched for in the arms of another.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and gold, Trinity stood in the fading light, a figure of beauty and grace against the backdrop of the ever-changing landscape. She was a testament to the enduring spirit of those who found solace in the simplicity of life, in the unspoken bond between human and nature. And though love had yet to find its way to her, there was a quiet confidence in her gaze, a knowing that, in time, all things found their place in the grand tapestry of existence. Although soon, that would change soon enough for her.

A few weeks after her last failed setup by her family, she was in the market at the family stand selling their famous corn, tomato's and their apples. Fall was ripe for of the produce, maybe not so much the tomatoes but it didn't hurt to sell what was left to keep the farm from going out. She was sitting quietly, watching the people mingle, making some small sales here and there as they kept going when she noticed a group, albeit small group of soldiers walking through. They seemed like they were surveying, she eyed them cautiously as they stopped at the stand across from hers to take in the sight of the fall harvest. She noted the shortest one with a mohawk, then there was a darker man next to the mohawk; followed by a guy in a skull mask. Intriguing.. She though as she observed them.

Soon, the skull mask had turned his attention towards her small stand, and she felt her breathe hitch with uncertain unease. The sun's fading rays cast long shadows across the makeshift marketplace, creating an eerie atmosphere that seemed to amplify her anxiety. She tried to maintain a facade of normalcy as she rearranged the meager display of produce on her stand, her hands trembling slightly with the nerves that this intimidating figure stirred within her. 

Just moments ago, the bustling activity of the marketplace had provided her with a sense of security and familiarity. However, the sudden focus of the skull-masked soldier on her humble spot of commerce shattered that illusion, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable. The weight of his gaze bore down on her, sending a chill down her spine that she couldn't shake off. Every instinct told her to flee, to seek safety in the crowd, but something held her rooted to the spot, unable to tear her eyes away from the ominous figure in front of her.

Though as the group came to her stand observing and made friendly talk with her; she felt that tension disappear. "Hey there lass, loot looks pretty good." The mohawk said, as she stood in front of them; most of them towered her small stature. 

"Thank you!"  She replied back, offering a warm, but uneasy smile. She shifted on her weight as him, and the other he called "Gaz" looked over the three options she had this year and the skull mask man, observed her. The guy called, Soap, or mohawk, turned back to her as he handed her some corn and potatoes.

"Oi Soap," the skull mask mumbled with a hint of mischief in his voice, as he surveyed the assortment of potatoes laid out before him. His words carried a unique accent that piqued her curiosity, causing her to meet his gaze as Soap, the receiver of his remark, did the same. "You Brits wouldn't know a good potato if you saw one, Ghost," came Soap's quick-witted response, a playful banter sparking between them. Suppressing a grin at the exchange, she observed as the man known as Ghost shifted his attention towards her, his eyes holding a mix of amusement and intrigue.

As the trio stood amidst the vibrant market stalls, the bustling atmosphere seemed to fade into the background, leaving only their lighthearted exchange at the forefront. Ghost's piercing gaze lingered on her for a moment, his mask adding an enigmatic allure to his presence. The playful energy between Soap and Ghost created a sense of camaraderie that drew her in, weaving an unexpected connection in the midst of the lively marketplace. 

Each word spoken carried a weight of camaraderie and familiarity that transcended mere banter, hinting at a shared history between the trio. The mention of potatoes, a seemingly mundane topic, became a playful point of contention that highlighted the underlying bond between them. The way Ghost's gaze held a flicker of something unspoken, a silent question or perhaps a shared secret, added a layer of complexity to their dynamic.

As they paid for their items, they took a turn to leave. "We will back soon lass, hopefully we get more though next time." Soap's friendly tone set her at ease as they departed and she shifted on her feet to watch them leave. She looked away from their backs as she sat back down; this day seemed off somehow like something would be different.