~𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬~

~𝐭𝐰𝐨~

~

Harsh, yet refreshing sunlight shined throughout the village square that afternoon. What seemed like hundreds of commonfolk had decided to come out into the marketplace, seeing as it was the first nice day they had had in a few weeks. The spring had been a rainy one, so any chance to get out and stretch was taken.

Ink took in a deep breath of the fresh air, enjoying every second as he caught the scent of newly baked bread and the flower cart that carried the most beautiful assortment of the kingdom's local flora.

He may not have been living there for long at this point, but if he could get days like this often, he could really learn to love his new home.

Coming back to reality, Ink looked back down at the long list of groceries and other necessities his brother had given him to get while he was out on the town.

He thought back to earlier that day when he had received the piece of parchment.

"I'm more than happy to run some errands for you, Dream, but why do I have to go out and do this alone? I think we'd have fun going out and shopping together!"

"I know. But we've been living in this house for two weeks now and we still have a bunch of unpacking to do. If you'll do this for me it'd save us both a lot of time."

"But Drea-"

"No buts! Don't worry about a thing, Ink. Who knows? You might make yourself a friend! Then you won't have to bug me about sticking to your side like glue."

The skeleton rolled his eyes to himself. He knew if Dream wasn't so persistent on him staying home to unpack, he would have followed him out in a heartbeat. His short, brightly dressed brother wouldn't have typically made such a comment about Ink getting on his nerves.

Still, he was right.

He glanced back down at the list, reading off the first few things to himself so he would know where to start.

Eggs, Milk, Bread, Fish, Bananas...

Great. Off to a boring start.

Ink let out an inaudible sigh, folding the paper back up and shoving it back in the pocket of his overalls, rejoining it with the friends it had made with the pocket lint and spare change that had been abandoned in the corduroy abyss so long ago.

He stood in place, scanning across the crowded space for some vendor that may possibly have some of the items he had been on the hunt for. He was instead met with the backs and heads of all the other peasants in the square.

Many of Ink's friends teased him for his short height throughout his childhood, to which he would always respond to by boasting that he was actually average height, standing at a good five feet and eight inches.

Besides, Dream was much shorter than him, being five feet and two inches tall. He never was picked on for it, though, seeing as his height matched his personality so perfectly no one had ever bothered to point it out.

Ink, however, liked to act a lot bigger and tougher than he was built. Out of the two brothers, he got into a greater amount of fights. Not that he was a fan of getting into fights, but other kids weren't as willing to sit and talk about the problem at hand as he was.

He would much rather try to communicate with his opponent about the conflict, but before he could get the words out of his mouth, his face would quickly be met with the sharp, hot feeling of a fist colliding with his face.