Optimism was a difficult thing to manage. Even on her best days, those where she had little more than a care in the world, Frieda was bound to be visited by at least one dour though, if not more. Life was full of such disappointments.
If she managed to keep her focus away for long enough, things were perfectly fine. She was traveling Eorzea, and lands beyond soon enough hopefully, and making a living through song. Eccentric and exciting people had been met, and beautiful locales had been witnessed. What more could she want?
Quite a bit, she had found out. Those things she had neglected while still living with her parents back in Gridania. Such as the fact that, at the end of every day there were so many things to be paid for. A room at the local in, which in some places felt rather outrageously priced. She needed food to fill her belly, lest she starve, which again could fetch an inane amount of gil.
On worse days it was much harder to ignore. Those days when she encountered a woeful individual, those souls who were worth speaking too just for the chance that their stories would make an excellent ballad. Those nights when she had to stretch her gil as far as she could.
But on the whole, Frieda Morrow felt happy. Most of the time.
No comments:
Post a Comment