She needs to go shopping

Morgala looked at the pantry of the small cottage where she lived at the edge of her mistress' estate. There was precious little there, and, while she had a mild case of the sniffles, the cook had banned her from the castle kitchen. She had **** but to pick up her basket and head to the market to obtain some food. Her meager pay could get her a few apples, perhaps, and some herbs, but it might not go very far.

She had just picked up her basket and was about to leave when she heard a sound outside. It sounded something between a "click" and a "splat." She waited a second. There it was again. Curious, she opened the door. At first, she didn't see anything, then something hit her in the forehead. Hard at first, it turned to slime. She reached her hand up to the liquid that was dripping down her face. "Egg..." she said out loud. And from the smell of it, it wasn't fresh!

That's when she saw her. At first, she thought it was a child. But then, she saw the bare feet. "Get out of here you damned halfling! This is private property, and if you ain't the Brandt family or one of their retainers, you don't belong here!"

The girl giggled. Well, more of a woman. For a halfling, she seemed like a teenager, which would have made her about twenty five to thirty years old. A whippersnapper to an elf like Morgala. "Do you hear me? I'm serious! You better get gone from here!" Another egg smacked Morgala, this time glancing off her nose. That halfling's aim was amazing.

Dropping her basket, she trudged toward her diminutive assailant. The halfling stood up, pocketed a slingshot, lifted something off the ground, and ran. "That's right!" Morgala said, "Get out of here!" But then, she noticed what the halfling was carrying. It was a lightly-built cage...and in it was one of the Brandt's chickens. "Why you little!"

Seeing a chance to get back into good graces in spite of her head cold, she ran after the halfling. While Morgala wasn't in very good shape, her legs were still longer than the chicken thief's, and she seemed to be gaining on her. The halfling ran right out the gate, passed the guard, who more often than not had dozed off. He didn't react to Morgala's screams quickly enough to aid in the chase. Morgala would have to go it alone.

For some reason, every time she almost caught the halfling, the thief seemed to find it in her to run faster. They were out of the estate, on the road to town, and, now, the halfling was cutting into the woods. Morgala was running out of breath, but she wasn't losing her. It almost seemed as if the thief was slowing down.