#thomashopper

milo had ducked and shimmied his way through the market stalls in search for anything he could find that screamed possibly atlantian? to him, finding himself almost entirely alone in what felt like a forgotten corner of the bazaar. he paused for a moment, taking some of the trinkets and pots gently in his hands and scrunching up his nose as he examined them. with a small sigh, milo returned the objects and looked around, an eyebrow raising once he noticed the other.

“sorry to bother you,” he started, an awkward smile-wave in his direction. “do you happen to know where any of this stuff came from?”