The traveler had been following the girl only a brief time, remaining always several paces behind and well veiled by the flickering shadows of the luminous lampposts. He had no rationale to do so in truth, but as they had spent weeks together in close company whilst on the road he now found himself experiencing something near to loneliness when she was no longer by his side.
He had wandered over to the Archives just earlier that evening, right in time to watch her as she exited its door and hurriedly strode down the lane. The bearing in her stride was purposeful, which made him sufficiently curious to see what she had planned.
She came to the great boar fountain within the market square and paused at its edge, running her slim fingertips along its murky pool while simultaneously casting her gaze about. She was waiting for something, or someone.
Silently he stood behind a merchant’s wagon, gloom shrouding his still body, fingers itching to hold a smoke then. But he remained transfixed on her, hoping she had not invited trouble upon herself.
It was not long until a towering man in garishly styled clothing came upon her and warmly greeted her; she too smiled and seemed glad to see him. They exchanged pleasantries quickly before he offered her his crooked elbow in a chivalrous gesture and Kitten demurred, choosing instead to walk behind him which seemed to fluster the foppish man.
They disappeared into the door to the enclosed market center, and the traveler gave in to the desire to smoke as he lingered in the darkness.
Waiting. Imagining.
The pair noisily shuffled out of the door and down the stonework steps some time later, she bearing a few items of clothing folded neatly over her arm and the man hefting two large muslin sacks easily with his brawny arms. The traveler caught sound of the twang of the man’s speech as he passed; he was a local by the cadence of his voice, but also there was a noticeable tinge of something else - exasperation, perhaps?
Part of him wished to smile in the moment, for he knew well how easily Kitten invoked that reaction in others with her oft strange mannerisms. But where the man found it vexing, the traveler had come to embrace it and eventually, quietly, found it almost endearing.
From his concealed view he watched as the man leaned forward in a play for a kiss - yet Kitten shied away from him though he had probably bought the garments she now carried. She was saved then by the fortuitous spilling of the man’s bags onto the lane right at that exact moment; his attentions turned to gathering his purchases before he hastily departed, leaving Kitten to stand alone, perplexed.
The traveler slipped away then too and vanished down the darkened alleyway.
He withdrew to a quiet patch of grass under one of the many wooden awnings within the town, concealed from casual view. Setting down his rucksack beside his scrawny hip, he withdrew the last of the pipe-weed he’d brought with him from the Shire and resolved to turn it all to cloud and embers.
He had always told the girl that she could do far better and here was the proof of it. Though the man was dressed in flamboyant attire and certainly not a nobleman, one could see that he was at the very least prosperous enough to live without many unattainable wants. A landowner, certainly, perhaps a merchant or tradesman. Someone who could give her more than he.
His next inhalation deepened.
And yet she balked at the man’s interest, doubtlessly because of her desire for him. His mind played over imagined scenarios: if he wordlessly slipped beyond the gates, tonight, never to return, would she eventually have a better life? Possibly. Probably.
The notion rippled his heart with a fresh sense of remorse. He was overly fond of her. Unwisely so.
He had not realized he had reduced the entirety of his remaining smoking-weed to dust until a smouldering nub burnt his fingers.
