Aaricia was jogging down the street, a rather big grin on her face. She could still hear the angry yelling going on behind her, but they were long distant by now. Finally, she felt safe enough to pause and catch her breath. These festivals were some of the best times to strike at those she opposed. With a few different scarves on hand to cover up with, she could easily vanish in the crowd and lose her pursuers. Her hand dropped to feel the weight that she had just added to her bag and let out a content sigh. It was a fairly heavy purse she had grabbed; it would cover a lot of medications and food those who needed it.

“You look mighty pleased with yourself,” an older voice mused from a few feet away.

Aari cocked her head slightly and gave the man a confused but sweet smile. The Matorian was standing alone, leaning against one of the stalls with a drink in hand, though he looked less than pleased about his position. “As a matter of fact, I am feeling grand.” She took another moment to look the stranger over. He seemed well fed, his clothes were not too worn down.. so he was certainly not one of the poor around here. “Is there something I can help you with? The festival usually has everyone smiling.”

The old man snorted. “I don’t suppose you can make me younger again? Give me some of my worth back?”

“If I knew how to make people younger, I would be the richest woman in Tendaji,” she said with a laugh. Aari had little concept of the desire to be younger yet. Perhaps as she got older, but for now.. well, unless it was young enough to be back when she was happy in Zena, she didn’t want it. “You should not base your worth on your age. You certainly don’t look old enough to be saying such things anyway!” Perhaps his skin was lined and showing wrinkles, but that certainly did not reduce his worth in her opinion.

“I assure you, I am that old.” The man laughed sourly and shook his head. “Sorry. I guess figuring out how my daughter sees my age has brought me down a bit. Seems her old man is good enough to ask for festival money, but not good enough to actually spend the festival with. Daughters can be a bit fickle.” He gave the young woman a sharp look. “You so fickle with your old man?”

A daughter? Her smile gave the slightest twitch, thinking on her own “relationship” with her father. Aari’s father had certainly never wanted to spend time with her unless it was an opportunity to make himself look good to his peers. Here was this man though, looking upset because he actually wanted to spend time with his child. How lucky that girl was… “I suppose all daughters have some measure of being ‘fickle’ with their fathers.” Oh, her father surely had a whole basket of other words he would use to describe her.

Aari shrugged away the tension and smiled encouragingly. “Besides, the festival is not just for the young. I am sure you will be able to find something to enjoy on your own time; and perhaps your daughter will realize that she should be spending time with you before it gets too late.”

“Trust me, anyone would be old after raising six children.” The man pushed his hair back and sighed heavily. It was nice to see someone being friendly for no reason. “I know you’re right, but is it odd for me to see my children as part of the harvest? My wife and I worked hard to raise them to be competent folk. With them all growing and making their own ways in the world, I just wanted to enjoy what part of my harvest that I could.”

Aaricia’s jaw dropped. “Six!” Did people have six children?! She was an only child, not counting her half-brother whom she’d never met, and the thought of so many siblings was mindboggling. The guy’s wife must have been a formidable woman if she had given birth to that many; assuming that none of them were half or adopted. She knew it could happen, but the largest brood she had been acquainted with was four, and that seemed more than enough as it was. “I cannot imagine,” she breathed out in awe. Hearing the pride in the man’s voice, she felt a lump rising in her throat. “Your children must be a wonderful crop if they have you as their father,” she murmured, a slight blush rising at the unexpected emotions. She didn’t know this man; he could have been a complete jerk! ..Something told her that wasn’t the case though.

He threw back his head to laugh at the girl’s reaction to his children. “Yup. Six. Three boys and three girls, and each one a handful in their own right.” His brow rose with surprise at the emotion suddenly visible on the other’s face, but having the children called a crop made a smile finally hint a curve of those full lips. “I think they turned out pretty good,” he praised. “Even if one doesn’t bother to spend the festival with her old man.” The man stood and twisted to pop his back, sighing with satisfaction after a few loud cracks. “You’re right, though. This party isn’t just for you young folk. I bet there’s a good, cold brew with my name on it at The Roosted Craw. Decent way to celebrate, in my book” He cocked his head slightly and his smile grew a little more open. “Seeing as I don’t see anyone escorting you, would you care to come along?”

Aari should have been heading back home to distribute her prize… Instead, she found herself walking into the tavern with her new acquaintance. A simple drink and someone new to count her blessings with, and enjoy the festival rather than just work the crowd. After all, there was always something to be thankful for.

((word count: 1019))