Cricket sat down with a heavy plonk in the proffered chair, a nervous twist to her legs as they swung into place under the table. "'m Cricket," she introduced herself, adding, "I'm not a kid neither, I've got..." Her insistence was paused for a count. "I've got nine summers what I remember, an' one that I lost, and maybe more, at least that's what Sendra told me." Her age displayed proudly, like a badge won, she beamed at the people who gave her a seat and a cup filled with something that wasn't stale and murky.
And then the beam is dropped to her grimy hands. Her foot is rubbed against a pair of stained trousers, as if the act would eliminate the months of filth. Was she rude?
She looked up sidelong once more at Rydia and Zool, before reaching and taking her first sip from the glass.
Oh, that's nice. She almost choked on it, unprepared for the taste. The cup was carefully placed down again, and she looked at Rydia, with her earrings and her prettiness and she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"How do you lose a fish?"