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It was just one of those days.

Wing Ting had just joined at the Circus, only to be sorely disappointed. Where was the happy? Where was the sparkly? It was happy and sparkly the first time she saw it - when there was the performing - but now, it was kind of blah. And Wing Ting didn't go well with blah. She much prefered happy and sparkly.

But I digress.

She was out behind the tents that day, scuffing her clean white shoes in the mud. She only had one pair of shoes. And a white, stark dress that she couldn't wear while she was working, so one of the older stage managers had banished her, saying that she could come and work as soon as she got some proper clothing. Wing Ting couldn't work until she got new clothes, and she couldn't perform until she worked. This was not looking good. "I'm going to get wet," Wing Ting said, staring at the puddle. "And this whole scenario is getting more and more whirlpool-of-death-y."

Wing Ting glanced around quickly, and then skipped into the grass, whistling to herself. She stuck a crisp white toe in the mud and pulled at the turf. "Muddy~" Wing Ting sang out, dragging her foot in the mud. "I gots muddy feet!" It probably wasn't the best thing to do with white shoes on, but she nevertheless soon had drawn a smiley face, a bunch of grapes, and what looked like a cow wearing a wig but was really supposed to be a hippo.

Wing Ting backed up a few steps and admired her work, giggling a bit. The hippo looked like he had gas. "I'll need new shoes cause I'm muddy!" She giggled again and danced a bit. Maybe it wasn't so bad that she didn't have to work.

Wing Ting may have levitated on the spot. "Eep!" She squeaked, whirling around to face the man. He was sitting, but he was still taller than her. She couldn't see him very well, because it was kind of dark, but she spoke to him anyway. "Hey mister! My name's Wing Ting! What's your name? D'you want your clothes? Who are you?" Wing Ting was a curious thing by nature, but she remained a good three yards away from the man. After all, he could be a scary monster come to gobble her up! Roar! Scary!

Wing Ting scooted a bit closer to him, squinting as she tried to get a good look at his face. She still couldn't see it all the way, so she scooted a bit more to the side and peered at him again. "I'm serious. I need new clothes. She said when he laughed at her. It wasn't nice to laugh at people, especially when you were five bazillion times taller than them. She gestured down to her dress and shoes. "I'm not allowed to work until I get new clothes. See?" Wing Ting looked at him consideringly, her head cocked to one side. "You aren't doing odd jobs now. She protested when he told her what he was doing. And then she added, out of sheer curiosity: "What are you doing now?"

Wing Ting blinked. "I know you're sitting. You're not doing anything else? Like, thinking of something or...I dunno...something?" Like Hadrian, Wing Ting didn't know how to take this strange, peculiarly tall man. He was too quiet and reserved, and he just sat. "I could make a dress?" It was one of those statements that had a curl on the end, like a question, because Wing Ting didn't know if Hadrian would approve of her cutting up his shirts to make dresses. "I mean, I've been pretty useless all day. And then the boss-lady threw me out because I kept worrying about my clothes and dropping expensive stuff." She dug her foot in the mud again.

Wing Ting scuffed her shoe in the dirt yet again. "Uhm...no. It's smelly in there, and I don't want to go back in."

And then, there was silence.

Silence of the awkward sort.

Wing Ting shifted her weight back and forth nervously, before suddenly bolting for the man and sitting - Plop! - down next to him. "Hi!" She laughed, happily noting that the ground was dry here. Wing Ting swung her feet around a bit, humming to herself, and waiting for Hadrian to speak. She would wait for a few minutes, and if he said nothing, she'd start chattering again. Alas, it was his fate to be forced to listen to this little Asian girl whether he wanted to or not.

Silence again.

So Wing Ting poked him. "Hey. Are you in the Circus for performing?" He had said that he was, but Wing Ting might have misheard him. She peered up at him. He was tall. "D'you have a talent? D'you tame lions? I've always wanted to see a lion tamer, because they're really cool! They take the whip and go HOO-HAH and the lions go WAAAH NO WHIP." She grinned up at him. "It's fun." She said simply, tilting her head back and forth and whistling again. It wasn't a particular tune she was whistling, but more of a wandering, piercing noise that had no purpose. It was rather annoying, actually.

Wing Ting smiled at him brightly and continued speaking, though she had forgotten what she was speaking about and was really only speaking to be friendly. "Oh, no lions? Maybe you should try lions. Lions are cute, sort of like big, man-eating kitties. Where I came from, if you really wanted a lion, you could get one, except, they were made from scratch and very expensive." She jabbered. Wing Ting was completely gone now, lost in words and babblage. "One day, I thought maybe I'd like to have a lion, but I never had enough money and I always spent it on candy and stuff and so I never got one. I'm not really sorry, though, because lions can be a lot of work, and I'm not sure I can handle the responsibility, but it would have been nice to have one, don't you think? Why are you wearing sunglasses?" She asked, coming back to reality in a bang-up crash. "It's not bright out."