[Getting in quick to cherry pick the best fruit before all of it's hauled off isn't too demanding a task, typically. Entire crates disappearing isn't enough to dissuade the effort, but Misty finds it distinctly frustrating. Too accustomed to the oddities most residents have on display to mistake this as a new quick of the ferry, she waits. At the first sign of another presence - lantern light present long enough to see, a halting footfall, anything indicating a pause - she turns on her heel, preparing to say something cross.
The dried blood catches her eye before she can get a word out. For the best, considering the 180 from exasperation and annoyance to earnest concern.]
welcome
The dried blood catches her eye before she can get a word out. For the best, considering the 180 from exasperation and annoyance to earnest concern.]
You alright, there-?