Trip [Sarella]

Casually walking along, hands in his pockets, it would be hard to find any pressing reason for Rolex Ghram to be wandering the streets. That would be because that was exactly what he was doing, just wandering the streets. His green eyes were quick to pick up on any sign of movement, but his body was relaxed. He would be able to stop any attack before it hit him, or so he hoped. His swordsmanship training was rigorous, and a momentary lapse in concentration would earn him a bruise. He had learned, and learned quickly, to watch all around him. By now it had just become habit, and not one he was willing to break. It would be his instincts that got him out of a situation, whatever that may be.

As he reached a more populated area of District One, having meandered past a quiet spot he liked to spend time alone at, he stiffened. There was something about this area, it didn't feel right. It was like there was something in his gut telling him to leave or be ready for a fight. Well, he was ready for a fight even if he didn't necessarily want one. He pushed his gut feeling aside and strode forward, keeping a watchful eye around himself. This area of District One was somewhere he visited often, and he had never had this twinge in his gut before. It had always been a relatively quiet part, but something was different today. Perhaps there was someone or something here that shouldn't be, or perhaps he was just hungry but something was off.

Fortunately, nothing happened as he strode through the street. He was grateful for it, not having any weapons on him, but there was also a small bit of disappointment in his heart. At least this way he wouldn't ruin his shirt, his mother had been furious with him after the last brawl, having gotten the shirt dirty and torn. He had tried a small joke, saying that at least it was good practice for the games, but it hadn't gone over well. If anything, it had just made everything worse. She had hit him, a good smack with the wooden spoon she had held, and he had forced himself into letting her. The blow had cost him a good-sized bruise on the cheekbone, but it had given him the satisfaction of braving his mother's wrath. It had also made his mother purse her lips and give him a look that seemed to cross between angry and proud. Seemingly, he had done the right thing in not blocking her hit, it would have just gotten him another one anyways.

A small smirk curved one side of his mouth upwards and he raised a hand to his right cheek, where the bruise still showed. It was much fainter now, but still obvious enough. His mother was no weakling. Dropping his hand to his side, and then sliding it into his pocket again, Rolex finally reached the main square. He nonchalantly wandered over to a small shop and looked at the wares, expensive trinkets that would do nothing but get in the way in a fight. There it was again "in a fight". It was how he always thought, ever since he had first been taught how to wield a knife. How would this or that affect him in a fight. But no, maybe it was time to break that habit. Instincts were good, but over analyzing could be a hindrance. Bringing himself back to the table in front of him, Rolex swept over the table with his eyes, seeing nothing that interested him. He wasn't exactly the type for trinkets, they never did anything for him and they would probably never do anything for him. He turned from the shop, nodding politely to the shop keeper, and walked to the next shop. It was a jewelry store, and there were all sorts of chains and pendants. He looked over the wares, and was about to leave, when he saw a gold chain. It was quite plain looking, and yet it would look better on it's own than with a pendant. He looked up at the man who ran the shop. "Excuse me, how much is this?"

The man looked up, then at the chain Rolex pointed to. He said the price and tried not to watch as Rolex pulled the appropriate amount from his pocket. Over the last little bit, Rolex had saved up the money that his parents gave him sometimes for doing various things around the house. He had been planing on spending it on something more practical, but that was before this chain had caught his eye. Luckily, he had enough money to purchase the necklace. The shop keeper took his money, counted it, then handed him the golden chain. Instantly, Rolex fastened it around his neck. The cool weight of the gold felt nice around his throat, and having it there was almost a comfort. It was odd, but he supposed this was why people wore things like this, it offered them some sort of comfort.

As he started to walk away from the shop he felt his foot hit something and he tilted forward. He flung out his arms instinctively and caught himself as he fell, rolling to keep from hurting his wrists. Great, now his shirt was dirty, his mother would give him another bruise for this. Clenching his jaw, he stood up and tried to brush off his shirt. Why hadn't he seen that coming? Normally he was better than that. But now it didn't matter, the person or thing that had done that would wish they hadn't. He wouldn't attack them though, not physically at least. Unless there was reason to, because there might be. Alright. Whose ear do I have to chew off?