Little Red Bag

It was only a few minutes after we'd concluded our impromptu meeting with Vernon that Gharret came trotting back up, bright red leather satchel in his hands. It wasn't the smallest purse in the world, but then again, it was closer to a book- or a note-bag, and definitely the most expensive thing I owned. Whilst shopping for a birthday present I could gift myself, my then-purse, a 20-year-old hand-me-down, decided to finally give out and drop the entirety of its contents on the department store floor.

Embarrassed, I could only chase after my scattered belongings with another store employee, who off-handedly grabbed this particular bag and began putting my things inside. During our conversation, she'd learned that I was on my own with no plans on my birthday and decided to buy it for me as a gift using her employee discount. I later learned she was the store manager, of course, so a $75 bag was nothing for her.

Still. It was a nice thing for her. And the bag turned out to be amazingly sturdy, cute as hell, and large enough to keep all my things. I called it my 'little red briefcase' sometimes.

Gharret trotted up and sighed, handing the bag over. He hadn't even broken a sweat, though a lot of people he'd passed by on the street were both alarmed and curious as to why the Chief was running so.

"Why THANK YOU, kind sir," I said, continuing the horribly sweet voice from earlier. He groaned a little as Leigh snickered at his plight.

"I'm sorry, alright? I didn't know who you were, though…when I looked inside, there were many strange things…so it became the primary supporting evidence-"

"You WENT THROUGH MY PURSE?!" I screeched and he flinched, cringing backward as I hissed ferally at him. I didn't slap at him this time, though. He had his reasons. I calmed down quickly and huffed.

"Never go through a lady's purse. But since ladies don't have purses in this world, I'll forgive you…but just this once." Even Leigh, who'd backed away, looked terrified. I flashed a smile at them before flipping open my bag and tugging the zipper open.

Oddly enough, nothing LOOKED out of place and I frowned a little.

"Did you actually look at anything in my purse or did you just open it and stare inside?" I asked curiously as I reached for my phone instinctively, then thought better of it and left it alone. It was probably dead, anyway.

"I just looked. I swear." He put up his arms again and I could only chuckle.

"Calm down. If you only looked, then that's fine. We ladies like to keep our purses a certain way and sometimes grubby little hands tend to ruin the natural order of things, is all. It's…a personal…privacy…kind of thing."

Gharret blinked softly, then nodded.

"I'll respect that in the future. You have my word." He thumped a fist to his opposite peck and bowed his head briefly and I smirked a little in response.

"I know you will."

Now. To get down to business…I pulled out one of my smaller spiral-bound notebooks and flipped it open. I tended to always keep several notebooks of varying sizes in my purse since I had both the space and the inclination to come up with new ideas that needed jotting down QUICKLY or I'd forget them. I also had a hot mess of pens and markers tucked away in a pocket in my bag, which I also extracted.

The two had reapproached and observed my objects with great curiosity. I wondered just how much these luxuries would last me until I had to go without.

I closed my bag, then extended the hidden straps and slung it over the opposite shoulder so that it sat on my hip, leaving my hands free. It was then I noticed how they leaned over the objects in my hand, marveling over them.

"This is paper," I said simply, opening up the little 8"x6" notepad and showing them the white pages contained within. "That would make this a notebook." I then held up my pen and clicked the button at the end with my thumb, revealing the small nib. The 'click' sound made them jump. "And this is a pen. I use it to write."

Gharret frowned as he straightened, then crossed his arms.

"These objects and concepts are alien to me. What, exactly, is the purpose of writing?" He lifted his chin slightly in his confident manner, though he wasn't smiling…though it made ME smile. He was pushing me to defend this idea, and I couldn't help but admire him for it. Just because an idea is good doesn't mean it's coming at the right time.

"Writing…allows someone to transfer their thoughts into a physical medium that can be referenced back many days, or even many years later. It can also record events, such as births, deaths, harvest amounts, rainfall…It is the first true step for widespread communication. With writing, one king can send a private letter directly to another king without anyone in between knowing what was exchanged."

He smirked a little in response and bobbed his head.

"I see. Well, you have me convinced. Let's see it in action, then."

I grinned and began jotting down all the ideas for the needs of the village I'd had in my head already that day.

"At the end of the day, I'll read these back to you. Tell me how many you remembered all on your own, okay?"

He grinned toothily and nodded in return, eager for the challenge and to prove himself.