ArtPibble

The thief hoisted herself onto a higher branch. A twig snatched her, tearing yet another hole in her tattered cloak. She grunted and punched the trunk. “Ouch!” She blew over her knuckles, “Fine, you win.” She settled herself into the embrace of the giant oak. Holding out an edge of her cloak to examine the damage, she smirked. The sunlight flickered through the holes exactly as it did through the foliage. A breeze ruffled her skirt and the leaves alike. It was as if she were meant to be right here. But this wasn’t where she wanted to be. She scowled at the dirt road below. She should be back at the capital city with its guarantee of myriad wealthy travelers anywhere she went. But here in the west, the poorest border of the kingdom, this road was her best hope. She was a thief and needed to steal something, even if it was only a day of freedom. What quarry could she hope for this close to the western border? Was she still a thief if there was nothing to steal? She closed her eyes.