Ilayda's hand flickered from shelf to shadow, slim fingers searching out anything edible left behind. Her eyes were bright, darting this way and that, and though she'd started the night by sending furtive glances over her shoulder, as she saw each time that the street was empty, she began to take less and less notice of her surroundings. Desperation mounting, she moved from stall to stall, fingers skimming the shelves, looking for anything that she could eat, anything that might beat back the gnawing hunger settled firmly in the pit of her stomach.
In fact, she was so focused on her search that she truly didn't hear the soft patter of footsteps. She had just finished searching a stall when the voice split the air behind her, making her jump and slam her head on an overhanging shelf she'd been half-concealed behind. Whirling around, the faerie girl caught sight of the moonlight-drenched figure, giving an involuntary gasp of shock and taking a step backwards. Her eyes devoured the human in front of her, taking in the comfortable tunic, the worn jacket, the boots soft with wear - and more than that, his height. Compared to the five-foot faerie, he seemed almost impossibly tall, looming and imposing as he cut a stark silhouette against the moonlit sky.
Ilayda shifted her weight, tensed on the balls of her feet as though poised to run. As she shifted one foot back, she felt the comforting wetness of a puddle behind her; with a snap of her fingers, the puddle flew into the air, coalescing into a small sphere, then lengthening into what seemed to be a water-whip as she stretched her hands apart. Her eyes were bright as they stayed on his face, set in the pale skin under a tangle of hair and the gentle glitter of tourmaline beads that adorned head and throat. She looked like a half-wild faerie princess - which was convenient, because she was, essentially.
Though she might prefer to look all night rather than face the confrontation, he had asked a question, and she'd have to answer. "Maybe," she murmured quietly, uncertain how to proceed with such a situation. In her Tribe, none of them had ever really had a problem with stealing, since the Tribe members shared supplies quite equally with each other. Still, she knew that in most cultures, taking from others simply because she needed it wouldn't be met with much more than a negative outcome. She could hardly tell him she was half-starved and desperate for something other than the handfuls of berries that she'd scrounged, but that was the truth. "What if I was?" Her voice wasn't particularly defiant, almost more curious - but she still hovered like a bird before flight, the liquid in the whip undulating softly in her hands.
