She glanced at her stack of papers, not much diminished, and decided to take a break. A nice shady park bench offered itself up to her and she sat, looking up as the sun filtered down through a jigsaw puzzle of cheerful green leaves. She heard the coo of pigeons and could see them in her mind, bobbing their little grey heads as they marched along the cool grass of the park. Across teh street were the sounds of the normal bustle of people and carriages, and a babies wail. Probably little Nancy, the flower-seller's daughter. The salty smell of hot pretzels drifted by the bench and she glanced over to see a pretzel vendor parked next to the building with the rather picturesque blue shuttered windows. With a shake of her head, Ali was on her feet again. No time to think of food, it was time to go back to work again.
Alicorne listened to the soft sound of her shoes, lightly touching the ground at a slow pace. The sound was soon drowned out, even to her own ears, by the sounds of the city: the harsh, hollow sound of horse hooves and carriage wheels, rowdy shouts from a nearby pub, raised voices from a tenement window. Concentration broken, she took a look aroudn the dirty and worn down buildings as the street lights came on, casting a dim glow and throwing dark shadows against the damp cobblestone streets. She passed under one of the islands of light and back out again. To her side was an alleyway, an obyss of pitch black when compared to the street. She shuddered, remembering the dangers that lurked in those places, and stopped under the safety of a streetlight. A flash of brown caught her eye as a man passed by, wearing dirty and ragged clothing and bringing with him the stench of tobacco and sweat. She glimpsed an impudent smirk through the careless stubble and decided even the light wasn't much of a haven. She took her chances and left it to make her way back to Ravenswood.