as she inspects the fruit cart, purnelle sings quietly under her breath. itâs a song she wrote long ago, before the dracborough ball. with the plague, she had never found time to finish it. but, after returning to dracborough, she had all the time and inspiration at her disposal.Â
          â behold the dragon queen,Â
     standing stately with her scepter,
     like a picture from a dreamÂ
     who can look upon her stately faceÂ
     and not feel lost in her eyes. âÂ
    she trails off into quiet vocalization, for thatâs all sheâs written thus far. but, that should be enough for today, anyway. with curious eyes, she looks up at the merchant. â can i have this ?? â in her hands, she holds a large, green pear. the man nods, seemingly dazed. purnelle simply smiles and gently lowers it into her small wicker basket, the bottom already filled with bright and ripe fruits. â thank you, sir. â then, she turns, ignoring the guilt churning in her stomach. but, instead of a clean get away, she feels a small tug on the sleeve of her dress. â oh !! â she exclaims softly, turning again. â my apologies !! it seems weâve snagged eachother. â