Flora and Charlotte walked arm in arm through the square. Half the crews were out hunting so the square wasn’t nearly as busy as it usually was at three bells. They walked into the square through an alley between the tavern and the butcher. The door to the tavern burst open as they past, broken under the weight of two bodies that landed directly in front of Flora and Charlotte. They peered down at the brawlers, one of whom who was promptly struck so hard in the jaw that he was knocked unconscious and thrown unceremoniously to the side. Left lying there was Daniel Griffin. Flora raised an eyebrow at him.
“Having fun?” She asked. He rolled to his feet and wiped the blood from his mouth. Daniel had been Flora’s best friend since they were children in Boston. She had watched him grow a substantial amount in an insubstantial amount of time and now he stood as tall as a horse and sturdier than a tree trunk. His head was shaved close and revealed a gnarled scar at the base of his skull that he liked to say was from a fight he had won with his brain on display. But Flora knew that it was from a cast iron skillet a woman had hit him with when he was caught stealing. He was only ten.
“Have you been swimming again?” He asked instead of answering. Daniel had always hated when Flora went swimming with the sharks off the north shore. He looked at the shirt still sticking to her skin and her dripping hair pointedly.