( lalli, for his part, is scouting rather than scavenging. these shops aren't all that unlike those he scavenged on the outskirts of cities in the silent world - small, clearly meant for selling things but also not lacking a personal touch left by each shop's owner. it's with a sense of deja vu that he makes his mental list of which shop sits where and what lies inside, for those he's able to enter at all. in each shop, he touches very little. leaves it as he found it. he doesn't even turn the light on. perhaps this is why he isn't spotted by the familiar face peering in through the window, his figure shadowed against a shelf of papers in more different kinds and colors than lalli can really see use for.
and then the face disappears, and she moves on down the sidewalk.
he turns back to the shelf now with every intention of continuing his assessment and moving on - but just down the row a bit lies a notebook, plain white with 'sketch' written in stupid curvy light-blue letters across the top. his feet carry him over, snatching the notebook and eyeing it warily for a moment. then his eyes lift, casting around for the deciding element... aha. up beside the counter where you'd pay, there's a basket stacked with boxes of pencils.
in the span of a moment, he's snatched a box of those too and skittered off for the door.
she's two stores down by now, but he makes his way over regardless and wordlessly offers out both the sketchbook and the pencils. the book's curvy writing may be stupid and the pencils may be the wrong kind (he honestly doesn't even know if there is a right kind), but he doesn't think she has anything to draw in right now, so. here it is. )
storefronts!
and then the face disappears, and she moves on down the sidewalk.
he turns back to the shelf now with every intention of continuing his assessment and moving on - but just down the row a bit lies a notebook, plain white with 'sketch' written in stupid curvy light-blue letters across the top. his feet carry him over, snatching the notebook and eyeing it warily for a moment. then his eyes lift, casting around for the deciding element... aha. up beside the counter where you'd pay, there's a basket stacked with boxes of pencils.
in the span of a moment, he's snatched a box of those too and skittered off for the door.
she's two stores down by now, but he makes his way over regardless and wordlessly offers out both the sketchbook and the pencils. the book's curvy writing may be stupid and the pencils may be the wrong kind (he honestly doesn't even know if there is a right kind), but he doesn't think she has anything to draw in right now, so. here it is. )