S a l e t é I I

XVIII - Pieds - Trois

All that she had to do was walk right on up to one of the stall fronts and talk to whoever was in charge - hardly a difficult task. The difficulty came from plucking up those last few drops of courage, the dose needed to approach so that she could announce both her presence and her wishes.

Monet had made this look really easy, and Cassia truly had wanted to bear this responsibility. Now that she was actually here, by herself...

No, she couldn't let those anxieties hold her back, especially not when she'd worked to keep them subdued up until now. She'd overcome them to the point where she'd been able to initiate her task, and now she would overcome them again to actually carry out that same task. Monet made it look easy because it was easy; walk up, say hello, offer things, get an answer.

The first opening she saw was for a stall handling various utensils and kitchenware. Cutlery, cooking implements like wooden spoons, ladles and spatulas, and similar items were all on show. All of them looked as if they were in quite good condition, and they'd all clearly been cleaned up and given some good attention, only a couple of scratches here and there across the range indicating that they'd been used in the past. 

The stall itself was being manned by a relatively young looking fellow, a man who had made as much as an effort with his own appearance, his hair quite tidy and his face clean, though his clothes - jacket, shirt and jeans - were somewhat more weathered.

She couldn't actually see any bottles of the cherry flavoured nectar she sought, but it couldn't hurt to ask, considering that his spot was currently free. The frame of the stand was hardly anything of expert construction, but it appeared durable and some attention had been paid to detail, forming what must have been the best mixture of practicality and appearance possible, the mostly sturdy wood supporting an almost quaint sign.

Here goes nothing, she thought.

"E-excuse me, mister?"

And she already sounded less confident than she would have liked. The stall owner looked to her with a smile, at least, which was immediately reassuring.

"You need something, little miss?"

His voice was fairer than she'd expected, though he may have simply been making an effort for her sake. Either way, it soothed her slightly.

"Do you have anything I could drink? I um, I have some things in my bag I can swap..." She said, as she patted one of the straps of her backpack gently, and this time she was more satisfied with the manner in which she'd spoken.

"Sorry kiddo, I got nothing."

"Oh... Thanks anyway."

She mustered up a smile in gratitude for his time, even if their interaction had been short lived, though he got her attention again before she could leave.

"There's some girls further along who might be able to help you, I'm pretty sure I saw them with a couple of drops when we were setting up." He explained, gesturing in the direction he was now referring to, and her smile returned with some additional will.

"Thank you, mister."

He looked more content as he left her with a pointer, and as she made her way along to follow it.

Huh. That hadn't been too bad. Maybe what Monet had said about people being courteous was true?

The first problem that arose as she walked further down the street was that there were more than a few stands being operated by women, leading her to head to the side of the road for a moment as she got her bearings. From where she was, she could see four stalls with ladies at the helm amongst the constantly moving members of the crowd, and all of them were currently busy, though some were seeing more activity than others. It seemed that some assessment was in order.