DANSE MACABRE [Jaskier]

[01] A Werewolf in Ard Carraigh

also known as;
'The Affairs of a Kaedwenian Advisor'

I

        HOODED AND ALONE, the figure sifted between the clusters of passing city folk, head bowed and steps hastened. The milky sun hung low in the sky, starting to bid it's final farewells and retreat towards the horizon. Yet this did not deter the folk from populating the streets. The market stalls were beginning to pack up for the day as small children ran and skipped along the roads blanketed in sheets of disturbed snow, playing various games beside the frozen gutters. Donkeys laden with trader's goods trotted laboriously by, yanked along by the fraying ropes around their muzzles. The crier's calls announced the turning of the hour, the bell in his hand ringing vigorously. Stray cats yowled from atop fences and roofs, overlooking the bustling city square with lamp-like eyes fragmented through the gentle flurry of snowflakes.

        "Oi! You little bitch!" spat a nearby tradesman, seizing the wrist of a young girl whom clutched onto that of a single red apple. She squirmed in his grasp, dropping the piece of fruit back into the wooden crate from whence she had stolen it, "You know what they do with thieves like you back in Zerrikania? They slice off their wormy little fingers so they can't pinch anything again!"

        The tradesman released the girl's grip with such force that it sent her crashing onto the street, turning to again busy himself with packing up his produce. Unfazed by the commotion, passers-by continued to do just that and hurry along as if they had noticed naught. However, the hooded figure approached the scene where the young girl remained sprawled on the floor, noticing the stranger's buckled boots at first as they stood over her. Cow-hide leather: sturdy, practical. Nothing flashy, nothing aesthetically-pleasing. But hardened, well-worn clothing. A patched cloak. A boned, string-drawn corset of goat's leather.

        The figure peered down upon the girl as she gazed back nervously. They withdrew their gloved hands from the depths of their cloak, laying one of their palms flat and circling their fingers around it with the other hand. If the girl had blinked, she would have missed it - for a second later, an apple had appeared sitting in the centre of their palm.

        The stranger offered it out towards the awe-struck girl whom took it with vague apprehension. She hesitated, observing the apple in the light before gazing back towards them in utter confusion.

        "Relax..." spoke the stranger. A woman's voice, "It's just magic." She lifted her eyes towards the castle, perched atop a slight inclination, in the distance though before she could say anything more, the tradesman had cut in harshly as he advanced towards the girl once more.

        "What did I just say about-" He started angrily yet the sentence was quickly ceased as the figure raised a hand and the fellow had become frozen in place with nothing but the ability to shift his eyes around in surprise.