[Katsa tries to spend as little time as possible in the main part of town – all of the roadways and doors are overwhelming, and remind her too much of the twisting paths and hidden corridors of her uncle’s palace. She’s ventured into the market, and the few other open districts, but she tends to stay near the beach – though it’s like no beach she’s accustomed to, saltwater or fresh.
If the other people milling around are going to try their hand at catching fish, she thinks, they’re going to do badly. Luckily she’s always had a knack for catching prey. She’s as hidden as she can be in the shallows of the river, well away from the umbrellas and merriment, with her trousers rolled up nearly to her knees and her toes stuck in the mud. One of her hands skims the surface of the water, and every once in a while she tosses a thick, silvery fish into the netted pack slung over her back.]
katsa | graceling [option 1 ... or 3!]
If the other people milling around are going to try their hand at catching fish, she thinks, they’re going to do badly. Luckily she’s always had a knack for catching prey. She’s as hidden as she can be in the shallows of the river, well away from the umbrellas and merriment, with her trousers rolled up nearly to her knees and her toes stuck in the mud. One of her hands skims the surface of the water, and every once in a while she tosses a thick, silvery fish into the netted pack slung over her back.]