Another morning, another day of monotony, at least for Ivy. The poor beggar girl that washed upon The Shallows from a far away island. For several of years now, she had suffered in extreme poverty. Having nothing but the tattered rags she took from a washing line, she had adapted to living in the extreme filth and grime underneath the homes of the Shallows. It was amazing for a young girl who lived off of begging and scraps made it this far, but it helps to know a few people, a band of misfits that helped her survive, fed her, taught her tricks of a trade to survive this cruel life.
She didn’t ask for too much, mostly because she had no idea of what she wants, so she still sleeps outside with very little to protect her. It was secluded enough that no one would bat an eye, but she wakes up and changes into the clothes that she wore when she first landed adrift here which were a green leaf tube top and a dry grass skirt tied with rope. It was not much to keep warm, but it covered her well. Today was a good day to wash her clothes in the swamp she thought to herself, beginning to wash her rags in the dirty water near where she had slept. She did not have any soap as the soap from the kind stranger ran out, nor did she have money to buy it, so her clothes would just be dirty still, and wet. But it was better than nothing, at least would get some of the grime off.
She hangs her clothes up to dry on the stilts of the house she lives under. She has become used to the smell of the slums, garbage mingling with the salty smell of water and the occasional urine puddle. If it were anyone else outside of the Shallows, they would probably be grossed out. Not Ivy though. She had to live through it, scrounging the garbage for scraps to eat, bathing in the filthy swamp, on occasion sleeping in alleys, with tons of puddles on the ground, a mixture of rain water and human waste. She got used to it, but all the same she still felt dirty. It was chilly, but given the past few days, it was probably going to be hot later, a feeling she remembers from the island she used to live on, but all but forgotten in other memories. It would be a good time as ever to bathe, but not here.
She hung up her wet rags, gathered a bag and begin walking to the edge of outskirts, a small beachhead where she was first seen, and when she first woke up to her current reality. It was going to be a long walk from the Shallows to that place, but she has been on the streets long enough to know the outskirts and slums of Alliria by heart. She stopped behind the back of a tavern to scrounge for scraps to eat. A crust of bread, moldy cheese, and three apple cores, only one of them being a little rotten was what she found, a treasure of a feast for her to enjoy. Normally, these days would have consisted of her begging all day, but she might be able to afford a day off, granted she continued to scrounge later tonight.
Her bare feet trudged along the streets and alleyways, hardened by years on the streets. She still yearns to have something to protect her feet from the grime, and possible injuries from the debris lying around. She stepped on a dull blade with her right pinkie toe once, and the infection had gone so bad, she had to have it cut off leaving her right foot missing a toe. She carefully trudged along remembering that incident. She notices a group of young street urchins playing. A small gang, just like the one she met a few months ago, ones that saw her begging in a tavern and shared with her their lunch. She wondered if she will see them around today.
She arrived at the beach, it was dirty from boat debris, small piles of garbage and algae, but the water seemed clean enough that it would not compare to the dirty swamp water she usually washes in, albeit, the swamp did runoff a little in the area of beach she was in, which is probably why it is secluded from fishermen and other mariners. Feeling her sore feet on the mixture of dirt, sand, pebbles, and stone, she sits down in a relatively clean area of beach, and since she hadn’t had breakfast yet, she began to scarf down on the crust and cheese she found. It was a weird feeling, she didn’t have to think about begging today, for the first time, she could just think about the food she has, and perhaps be able, though in vain, to wash herself in the salty waters without soap.
She didn’t ask for too much, mostly because she had no idea of what she wants, so she still sleeps outside with very little to protect her. It was secluded enough that no one would bat an eye, but she wakes up and changes into the clothes that she wore when she first landed adrift here which were a green leaf tube top and a dry grass skirt tied with rope. It was not much to keep warm, but it covered her well. Today was a good day to wash her clothes in the swamp she thought to herself, beginning to wash her rags in the dirty water near where she had slept. She did not have any soap as the soap from the kind stranger ran out, nor did she have money to buy it, so her clothes would just be dirty still, and wet. But it was better than nothing, at least would get some of the grime off.
She hangs her clothes up to dry on the stilts of the house she lives under. She has become used to the smell of the slums, garbage mingling with the salty smell of water and the occasional urine puddle. If it were anyone else outside of the Shallows, they would probably be grossed out. Not Ivy though. She had to live through it, scrounging the garbage for scraps to eat, bathing in the filthy swamp, on occasion sleeping in alleys, with tons of puddles on the ground, a mixture of rain water and human waste. She got used to it, but all the same she still felt dirty. It was chilly, but given the past few days, it was probably going to be hot later, a feeling she remembers from the island she used to live on, but all but forgotten in other memories. It would be a good time as ever to bathe, but not here.
She hung up her wet rags, gathered a bag and begin walking to the edge of outskirts, a small beachhead where she was first seen, and when she first woke up to her current reality. It was going to be a long walk from the Shallows to that place, but she has been on the streets long enough to know the outskirts and slums of Alliria by heart. She stopped behind the back of a tavern to scrounge for scraps to eat. A crust of bread, moldy cheese, and three apple cores, only one of them being a little rotten was what she found, a treasure of a feast for her to enjoy. Normally, these days would have consisted of her begging all day, but she might be able to afford a day off, granted she continued to scrounge later tonight.
Her bare feet trudged along the streets and alleyways, hardened by years on the streets. She still yearns to have something to protect her feet from the grime, and possible injuries from the debris lying around. She stepped on a dull blade with her right pinkie toe once, and the infection had gone so bad, she had to have it cut off leaving her right foot missing a toe. She carefully trudged along remembering that incident. She notices a group of young street urchins playing. A small gang, just like the one she met a few months ago, ones that saw her begging in a tavern and shared with her their lunch. She wondered if she will see them around today.
She arrived at the beach, it was dirty from boat debris, small piles of garbage and algae, but the water seemed clean enough that it would not compare to the dirty swamp water she usually washes in, albeit, the swamp did runoff a little in the area of beach she was in, which is probably why it is secluded from fishermen and other mariners. Feeling her sore feet on the mixture of dirt, sand, pebbles, and stone, she sits down in a relatively clean area of beach, and since she hadn’t had breakfast yet, she began to scarf down on the crust and cheese she found. It was a weird feeling, she didn’t have to think about begging today, for the first time, she could just think about the food she has, and perhaps be able, though in vain, to wash herself in the salty waters without soap.
