The waterfront in Cerenis. The docks, specifically, are what Varcan has come to look at this early morning before the day truly gets going and the place becomes to cluttered to properly 'survey'. Over head, the sun has just barely begun its climb up into the brilliant blue sky that reflects the sapphire perfection of the sea beneath it, dotted here and there with pillow-like tufts of cottony white clouds. The rolling waves some fifty feed beyond him bring in the salty smell of the sea, blowing gently through the town and filling it with the scent of the sea.
Varcan stands comfortably, even as he feels the heat of the sun begin to grow - it will be a sweaty day, he thinks mournfully -, in his usual attire. His usual attire consists of dark, billowing pants that expose far too much thigh to be decent, and a skin-tight white vest that bares his arms and shoulders entirely. A comfortable pair of white sandals adorn his feet, and protect him from the potential filth underfoot - though, he wouldn't be caught dead wandering anywhere near filth in the first place. Still, even at this early hour, he attracts a few looks from passing townfolk. However, he is currently not looking for work and pays them no mind. This is preparation for work, after all.
He lifts a hand up to his face to shield his delicate gray eyes from the sun's rays a moment as he feels the next wind flowing in before it even hits the town. As gentle as the rest, he revels in the freshness of the wind with a contented smile on his soft pink lips before he drops his hand from his eyes and pushes away from the cold stone wall. A walk will help him judge the area, to find the best spot to wait and watch from even though the idea of skulking about the docks at night for a mark gives him vague pause. He's not a dock-working kind of girl, but this town is damn near nothing but dock – sadly, unavoidable.
The ships that are moored here do catch his eye, however, and he finds himself staring at them and their various forms as well as those who move around on them at this hour as he himself slips along the dock. The sound of waves splashing against the stone breakers is the backdrop to this place, and it's a sound he doesn't particularly mind as he gazes longingly now and again out over the waves, at the vast expanse of blue where there is nothing but water and sky. Freedom, as free as anything could every possibly be, and infinite possibilities. On land, however, that sense of freedom is a hard thing to find. As he considers this, a soft sigh escapes his lips, and a hand reaches up to brush a creamy-coloured bang from his face, moving nearer the edge of the docks at the same time almost unknowingly. When he finds himself so near the water though, he cannot help but peer over the edge, to the foaming water below.
