Thrasja walks alone tonight. Unwise. When the road forks blindly, she clutches Haurnja's pendant close.
Wise men stay locked in nights, but who can turn coins, works: she's ale to pour; violin tucked under arm, Adris has dirges to play.
Movement catches his eye: green, flowing between shadows – following her.
Greencoat. Adris bites his lip, then raises his bow: Good luck, lass!
Prompt: bottle, wharf, violin, moon, monkey, fork, hole, lock, sheet, pendant, crystal