Chapter Six

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Alrighty, chapter six! I'll admit that I've been running low on ideas for the story,  so if this chapter sucks, I'm sorry.  ×-×
Anyway,  here's chapter six!  :D
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The long, weary days of traveling melted into weeks, and soon Roksana began to lose track of time in an endless world of rocks and snow. Her food supply had run out after the first week of traveling, and opportunities for herself and Kuzma to hunt were rare. It seemed that the higher they climbed, the less life they saw. Roksana was almost always filled with a desolate loneliness each day when she looked out over the barren wasteland, and was glad for Kuzma's company, though annoying at times. Roksana had taken to the habit of nicking food from mountaineers villagesbwhenever they came upon one in the mountains. Roksana would leave Kuzma hidden outside the village, before creeping in and stealthily stealing food from traders or stalls, enough to last them until the next village they came upon. More often than not, she ran out of food long before they found another village, and she had grown much thinner and bonier than before she had embarked on such a journey. It was on one such trip to a village that the trouble began.

She and Kuzma had traveled down the mountain range, towards the base of the mountain. Kuzma said that there was a large traders village near the base of the mountain-they could stop there for several days and 'gather' supplies. Roksana felt guilty, admittedly,  for having to steal such supplies, but she had absolutely no rubles in her pack, and it was either steal or starve, and Roksana didn't much prefer the latter. Besides, with people selling so many things, a thing or two from each stall wouldn't hurt, would it?

After several days of scaling down the mountain face, they finally came upon the traders' village of Hilfling. (Random village name?) Roksana gaped wide eyed at the scene before her-this was most certainly NOT a village. Her old home was a village, but this..... It looked more like a city, with hundreds upon hundreds of wooden or stone homes cozily squeezed together, and with streets almost bursting with activity. Peddlers sold their wares in colorful stalls lining the streets, and people bustled about the streets, haggling with traders over the price of a certain item or attempting to make a bargain of a trade. One of the main items traders brought North to Russia were spices from India- nothing could grow in the barren wasteland up north, and what food that did was tough and mostly tasteless, so large crowds seemed gathered about such stalls selling such exotic items. But with such high prices for spices, it was only those with money to afford the delicacy that could buy it. Which all the better meant there would be richer people present with carelessly saved rubles.  Roksana could hardly believe the sight of the large town as she and Kuzma approached, and openly stared. It was only when they were several hundred meters from the entrance that she and Kuzma stopped, both of them watching the town silently, unnoticed at the moment.

I can't go any further- it would most certainly cause havoc, and with so many men and traders, quite a few of them would kill me for my pelt. Kuzma was watching the village with a wary glint in his eyes, and Roksana understood her friend's concern. Their journey would be useless if he were to be killed. The leopard settled himself behind a large snowdrift. I'll wait for you here. Be back within an hour, or we may be discovered. The leopard's voice was crisp and businesslike,  but Roksana had a feeling it was only because Kuzma was trying to cover up his fear of being near so many humans. She stroked his head one last time before striding confidently towards the town, head held high. If she crept in,  people may grow suspicious of her motives.  If she walked in as if she belonged amongst these people, then she would most certainly remain unseen.

Roksana was pushed along by the flow of the moving crowds, drinking in the sights for the moment. Despite the fact that it was still winter,  it was somewhat warmer in the streets from the accumulated body heat of so many people. She paused at several stalls to look curiously at traders' wares, turning down their offers of bargains with a quick bow of her head before hurrying along. The sounds of people chattering and arguing with one another seemed almost overbearing, and nearly cloaked the sounds of the braying of donkeys and horses, the annoyed bleats of goats and sheep, and the impertinent squawks of numerous birds. Faint barking could be heard among the cacophony as children ran amok, their dogs following their masters obediently  through the rush of people.  Finally, Roksana entered the area where the majority of stalls contained food. Concealed amongst the crowds, it was easy to casually brush past a table and nick a loaf of bread, some dried fruit, or the occasional piece of frozen meat, like a delicate, coordinated dance. Soon her pack was bulging full of food, and Roksana crowed inwardly as she tried to fight her way through the crowd, back towards the entrance of the town.

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