Post by Deleted on Aug 18, 2015 1:16:45 GMT -6
It was a colorful evening on the tail of summer, just before the twilight hours when the clouds diffused the blue sky and the golden sunlight into shades of orange and purple and spread out like daubs of paint. A gentle breeze was coming in from the southwest, as well—just enough to make the trees whisper and the shop-signs creak, and if you were to settle in with a book, it might turn itself a page or two. The streetlamps weren't being lit yet. And as such, Cold was working almost in dark with those long shadows of the market around her—or she would be, had some of her wares not begun their glowing already. The Luxlilies1 had been fluorishing well, and as their petals opened, the pallid light they cast came out the window of her wagon as a kindly glow. It was a fine wagon, if an old one, passed down to her from her uncle. The wood was dark and coarse, painted charcoal with deep blue slatting on the roof. The hitch had folded up under the small step that led inside, and Cold stepped out, walking around to where the blue-and-white striped canopy had been stretched to form a makeshift traveling stall. Sprout turned her back and set the other pair of Luxlilies down, in their little ceramic pots, alongside the other plants on the traveling table she had set out. Although there weren't other vendors around,2 she knew that for the plants she sold, there were very few other markets. Sure, she got... interesting personalities at times, but this was a fine way of making some bits on the road, so she didn't have to ask home for funds quite as often. She struck a match and leaned up, lighting the little blue lantern hung over her canopy and illuminating the sign under—Sprout Exotic Flora, pure and simple, in a fine woodburn. The shelf certainly indicated as much. Beside these last two, she had some other Luxlilies, a Tumtum sapling, some Bright-bleed mushrooms, a little box full of Owl's Nettle with the berries just budding... under the counter, she even had a mandrake, though that was certainly nothing to put on the shelf.3 And there were others as well, plants with snappy little mouths, with brackety thorns, ones that blew against the wind and even one that seemed to be quietly sobbing. In her travels, she collected; and those she could sprout to cultivated seeds, those she sold. Well. She would, if anypony outside of Tall Tale or the bat colonies actually showed up at the markets on sundown. But this was Ponyville! She'd heard they were very friendly here, and they were so close to the Everfree, perhaps there would be some better business. She scooted up and sat down at her little stool, looked both ways down the dimming street... and gently petted the back of her Weeping Wedelia as it shed its little sticky tears. Poor dear. She was the very last one, and had come all the way from Hollow Shades, too. - - - - - - - - 1 – Loo-lee-lees, from the Prench. 2 – This is because the other vendors are reasonable. 3 – On account of the deadly, ear-piercing shrieks. |