Kizzaylen Nightingale sat on the balcony, inhaling deeply of the fresh scents of fruit, spice, and leaves. She always loved this time of year, when the trees changed and the merchants hustled from place to place, bringing in seasonal spices for her to enjoy. She twirled one short lock of deep scarlet hair around her finger, closing her eyes and releasing a quiet sigh. If only she didn't have to go.<br/><br/>Having traveled to the capital alone, and without money, Kizzie had been... borrowing, other people's homes, with the people still inside. This particular patron was a late sleeper, giving her time to relax, but it was still high time she got off the balcony and started trying to make her way. She hopped from the railing to a climbing vine, careful not to injure her frail hands as she slid down to the city streets below.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>