Emma-Rose had been there when her stall was set up for the first time, sitting on the chair behind the desk, nimble fingers bending wires into shapes to make small trinkets to put on her stall. It was littered with odds and ends made up of scrap metal, figurines and jewellery already laid out and sparkling in the fading sun. She was focused on what she was doing, stopping only to look up at smile, greet people interested in her stall, selling a few items here and there, mostly the silver spoon jewellery seemed to be going down quite well, which was heartening to see: it was the things she enjoyed making the most.
She glanced up as the fellow carnie approached, fingers stilling as she started to consider greeting him, pale eyes catching his and smiling briefly about to open her mouth and greet him but then suddenly he was jumping onto a man who she hadn’t noticed trying to steal things from her stall but she did notice the fighting. Anger rushed up in her that someone would dare fight like that in a place as magical as this. She had only been with the carnival for a few days, joining just before they’d left the last town, not too far where she’d grown up and lived her whole life. Leaving was liberating but sad at the same time considering the circumstances in which she’d left. But her nature was clearly something she could not deny, and she needed to learn to be okay with that, but it would take time, she didn’t approve of what she was, and whilst she was grateful for her father’s teachings - her biological father, that was, if he could even be considered a ‘father’ - to help her control herself, it made her no less comfortable with her nature.
She stood up, leaning over the edge of her table before she slipped out of her stall, pushing the flap open at the back so she could exit and she walked over to see the two of them fighting, effectively. She was a petite red-head, but she walked with a power, some kind of force behind her when she had anger behind her eyes, and she certainly had that. Looking at the other carnie with the jacket in his hand, she tipped her head, anger giving way to confusion. She hadn’t seen him trying to steal anything, so the tussle that had just happened?
Went entirely over her head.
She reached out and touched the man’s arm, the one who had stayed behind, all but tackled the other that had been looking at her stall. “If you wanted his jacket that badly,” she started with a small smile, removing her touch after a few seconds and folding her arms against her chest, “then you probably could have just asked him where he’d bought it…” She was teasing him, as much was evident in the smile behind her eyes. She tapped her fingers against her upper arm, shifted a little so she could still see her stall in case anyone wanted to peruse it and have a look.