On Dal roamed around the streets, looking for people he could mooch off of for money- as always. He ended up finding himself shuffling to a clothing shop where they sell cheap fabrics- that would do for today, he did see an old lady scoffing at the colors.

except someone else came up. There he lost his chance. Yet, something about them intrigued him, something in him begged for him not to leave yet, to try talking to whoever that person even was.

so he watched. Their tactic was smart- compliment, flatter, and old ladies usually almost fell for it automatically, mindlessly tossing a bag of money to whoever helped them as charity, or something like that. Point was, you got money.

He watched the old lady walk away, pleased with her new cheap fabric she never should’ve got, and watched the other man look through how much money he had gotten- the money that could’ve been his if he hadn’t been oh so rudely intercepted.