Sanria let out a long, deep sigh. She had now been in Westbridge for two days, and no one had seen Emalia. She was sure to leave a small note for Thasmudyan, letting him know where she had gone. There was not going to be a repeat in the disappearing act again. She had begged him, in fact, simply to stay home and let her handle it, to allow her to search for their daughter while he stayed safe in the cavern. It was harder than she imagined it would be.
She had stopped in to get a cup of coffee when she met Koniev. Though she had intended to drink her caffeine while she walked, Sanria ended up sitting and listening to the young man's tale. She couldn't imagine what Koniev had endured, any more than she could imagine all that Sandorin had endured, and toward the end of the conversation, she had discovered exactly how she had made Emalia feel... overlooked and unimportant.
Sanria decided to take Koniev's suggestion and post a bulletin in the middle of Market Square, and to the sides of all the buildings she could. Hastily, she scrawled out a missive and rushed to the paperboy. "I need to see your boss. Where is he?" It shocked her to see the boy recoil from her, clutching the papers to his chest. "Take it easy, lady... I don't have coin." "What?" "Quit begging." "Begging?" "I know your type, you can't have a free paper, and you can't have my money." "No no, I'm looking for my daughter."
The paperboy eyed her for a moment, relaxing only slightly. "Does she look like you?" "A little," Sanria nodded, "yes." "Does she need a change of clothes just as bad?" Sanria stood up, glancing to the ground in shock. "Never mind... t-thank you."
The paperboy merely shrugged, falling right back into his sales pitch, though still clutching the papers to his chest, as Sanria wandered away. Before, she might have asked Catrina for help, but having been so long gone, nothing seemed the same.
It was a quick walk to the pub, the one place she felt none would stare at her for her dingy clothing, and even faster to find an empty table near the corner. Amidst the din of drunkards, Sanria began the task of making flyers-hundreds of them.
