For once, we had a good solid hour of fun. Once lunchtime came around, the cold shafts of midday light peeking overhead through pouring clouds, a significant portion of the crowd had dispersed.
Suddenly, the many pathways once teeming with footprints of every shape and size weren't so cramped anymore, and the more populars stalls weren't as swarmed and packed as they once were. While there were still a good bunch of people who hadn't yet had their fill of fun—it was little enough, calmer enough, that Adalia could have a turn at proper leisure.
Apparently some sick sadist had the bright idea to set up a dunk tank challenge in the same exact season where balls of spit become actual projectile weapons… but to each their own, I suppose.
Adalia seemed kinda keen on giving it go, staring silently as we approached, and then staring even more as we passed. After noticing that, I couldn't really deny her the chance, could I? Especially since she stared so nicely…
