I do not own the characters, or story! Kara is the only thing I own!!
A warm summer night had crept upon the sleepy city of Paris. The sun was just peaking over the towers of the Notre Dame cathedral, giving a dark purple glow to the sky, while some of the night stars began to rise to decorate the dark blanket just above. A small wind could be felt as it passed through the clothes of those still walking a romantic walk in the night. There were hardly any sounds but those of a pair of naked feet upon the cobblestones.
A young woman no older than the age of eighteen was walking through the empty alley where space was tight to squeeze. In the moonlight she would have been mistaken for a robber or a thief, but she was neither, to some she was lower than that, she was a gypsy. She possessed dark brown hair, with a red scarf to keep most of it back, while a few strands of hair poked from its confinement. This matched her dream like brown eyes, and soft pink lips. She wore what ever she could pick up: a dark green skirt matched with a light purple sash to dangle on her dancer like waist, a dark purple corset and competed with gold bangles on her wrists.
Wind pushed the lost strands of hair over her eyes, only to add to the mystery of the new stranger. Her eyes darted from house to house looking for a light, for a place to rest her tired feet and head, but to no avail. Becoming weaker by the minute, she decided to sit close to a wall and just sit there to rest. Pulling her knees into her chest, she placed her arms over her knees for balance and support. Her eyes became heavy, and soon they closed for rest, this was the life of a gypsy.
"Hey you gypsy!" an angry voice called into the morning hours light. Quickly opening her eyes, she saw two guards come toward her, swords drawn. Not wasting any time, she rose to her feet and ran as fast as her waking legs would take her, dodging people and tables alike. Looking for a safe place to hide, she ran passed a caravan with a jester looking man was performing. She quickly stopped to take a few breaths, when he caught eyes with the young jester, but it was ended soon when the two guards came too close for comfort. Dropping her gaze, she ran again, but she was running out of energy. Turning her head back to see how close they were, she noticed the jester was gone; her forehead knit into confusion, but continued to run.
Seeing there were two corners to turn, she trusted her instincts and turned left, which allowed her to run smack into the coloured chest of an average built man. "I'm sorry, please move!" she huffed putting her hands to his chest in the manner to move him aside, but her wrists were taken into his hands, and he flipped her body around so that she was facing him, her back to the wall. Her heart began to race, turning her angry eyes to him she said, "What are you doing? Move now!" Yet he looked at her and told her to stay still and remain silent. It was the very same jester she saw only moments ago. Doing as he said, she heard the guards get closer to her hiding spot and closed her eyes; she never wanted to get caught by guards again. Yet they didn't come, they simply walked right passed them with turning a head their way.
When all was safe, the man removed himself from her body and asked her, "Sorry mademoiselle, but you seemed in the need of assistance." His voice was musical but rough. "What is your name my dear?" Her eyes looked up at his face then down to her hands, which were placed upon her hips, "Kara." She replied with independence. "And you are?" turning a hip to him in annoyance. Taking his hat off his head, he bowed and replied with a grin upon his face, "Clopin".