She sat with her feet propped up on a conveniently placed tree stump, her back against a patched and crumbling wagon of the sort you would expect to find one dreary night as you walked down a little known road with your mind engrossed in thought. This was her home, at least, one of them.
People passed by, their feet hurrying along as their eyes slanted in her direction. Sedah laughed, swatting a mosquito away with one hand, clad in a fingerless white glove. She lifted her glass to her lips with the other one.
She was an unusual sight, with her shoulder length pink hair and hard, violet eyes. Her clothes were stylishly ragged, their fabrics dyed bright pink and violet and white, like her eyes, hair and fingerless gloves. She wore an anklet of small bells and pink flip-flops.
Indeed, at first glance, her attire suggested a friendly, almost childish persona. However, for those who looked closer, Sedah displayed a much darker, more dangerous psyche.
Her eyes scanned the crowd, and then stopped. She smiled broadly, and waved at the stranger who had caught her eye. He was tall and walked in a stiff, upright fashion. His body was clad in white robes, and around his neck was a medallion which obviously corresponded to some cult or religion.
"Hey hot stuff, want a drink?" She inquired, her pink eyebrows raised in query.
The stranger coughed and hurried past. Sedah grinned evilly and crept after him. When she was directly behind the man, she dumped the remainder of her drink down his back and disappeared into a nearby shop before he had time to react.
She shook her head as the shop door closed behind her, it had worked. The impulsive act had banished the whispers in her mind, but she knew that the silence was only temporary.