The Wayfarer (mnfaure) wrote,
The Wayfarer

Snippet Sunday

As promised, new words:

Unlike the stately Arcades, where every vendor had a private shop and haggling was done over cups of spiced coconut milk with guards keeping constant watch, Port Market was a rambling sprawl of color, noise, and crowds that spilled off the flagstoned plaza into the harbor waters.

Small boats plied the cove as adeptly as urchins ran the streets of Paoqei, and the water echoed with the singsong of fresh fruit, baubles, and sex for sale. Only captains, their first mates, and traders with coveted docking passes were allowed on land to do business and frequent the better brothels on Sailor Hill.
Tags: snippet sunday, that thing called writing, witherwilds

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