[M/IC] War of the Hidden (Numbers and Naming)
It was hard to dislike the human's festivals, all things considered.
Under normal circumstances, Shivali was not the biggest fan of such traditions. The music and dancing could be fun, but the conversation only seemed to grow less intelligent as the night wore on and all the locals drank themselves into a stupor. The enjoyable gathering of friends would only grow loud and obnoxious, and they often insisted on burning things that they had spent months building for just such a purpose. The Tehnu woman couldn't help but think of such as an extraordinary waste, though perhaps that was merely because of her own people's history of frivolity and how it had brought them to ruin. Most of her find viewed such excess as a thing to be avoided, for the most part, or indulged in only very rarely.
Of course, it wasn't all negative. Even if the streets became so crowded that simply walking from one side of the road to the other could prove to be a struggle, it helped this particular outsider deflect attention away from herself. Normally even the most inconspicuous cloak could not hide Shivali in towns like these - she found herself attracting stares regardless. It was understandable enough, given the swirling patterns that blanketed her skin, but annoying nonetheless. Whispers and stares seemed to follow her wherever she went in towns like these, and rumours spread like wildfire, making it hard to stay hidden. During festivals like these, however, there was a notable difference. She was paid less attention, and treated like less of an outsider by those who did deign to take notice. Indeed, most of the residents seemed friendly enough if they spoke to her, and refrained from any of their usual questioning. More often than not she was simply asked by strangers if she wished to dance.
Shivali refused, of course - she had her own matters to attend, and saw them as being infinitely more important than simple, frivolous merrymaking.
Such was the mindset of the Tehnu woman as she ducked and weaved her way through the town square, whilst occasionally brute-forcing her way past those too intoxicated or enraptured to notice her passing. As the girl moved, she spared a glance for the source of their attention - a trio of gigantic straw effigies that had been erected in the town square, and were waiting to be burned. The lighting of them had some symbolic value to the humans, doubtless, but she knew not what it was. Only that the conflagration would mark both the closing point of the festival, and the height of the celebration. Shaking her head, the Tehnu warrior-servant would press onwards.
For the time being her goal was merely to make it towards the other side of the square, where she could slip from the main roads and into the backstreets, which should prove significantly less crowded at this time as everyone gathered for the finale.
Her actual objective was equally simple, in theory, but would prove much more difficult to fulfil in practice.
After what felt like an eternity of shoving her way forward with shoulders and elbows, Shivali finally burst from the crowds on the far side of the square. She would take a few steps away hastily, before glancing back - taking in the sight of the veritable sea of people she had just managed to cross. Had her own people been so prominent once? It was hard to believe sometimes. Regardless, she was quick to slip into a nearby alleyway, heading away from the town square and further towards the city's extremities. She walked with grace and purpose, at a pace that was hardly leisurely. Still, even as she pushed forward, the girl couldn't help but worry inwardly at the magnitude of her task.
Find the runaway princess. Take her into custody, protective or otherwise. Escort her away from the city and out of reach of the rest of her people
One person, on the run and trying to hide, in all of this. Its going to be like trying to find a needle in the world's biggest haystack
Despite her concerns, though, Shivali pressed onwards, head held high. She was a warrior-servant of the Lotus. One of the chosen few, the blessed warriors believed to be the peak of her dwindling kind. She would not fail in her objective, even if it meant she needed to search every room in the city one at a time.