<br/>As Celeste sat up and leaned forward with her head in her hands from disorientation, the redhead saw the contents of the pouch and the coins clinked as one slid out into her palm. Her eyes transfixed on the gold piece she tuned it over in her hands; the stamping on both sides of the coin was bizarre and in a language she couldn’t read.<br/><br/><br/>“Oh my…”, Celeste uttered, fully awake at last and glancing at the thing. “Where’s that from?”<br/><br/>“I don’t know”, Aimée shook her head. “She must be ceasterbuend. I know a shop uptown where they’ll take all sorts of odd sceatt…there’s probably more here than dad made all last year. We’ll go in the mornin'.”<br/><br/><br/><br/>Payment for services rendered, Aimée smirked to herself. So be it; there was enough gold there to probably get the family up and out of the Quartier Ouvrier. Perhaps a little larger flat in the merchant’s quarter…where the neighborhood was a little nicer.<br/>