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This boy was no fisherman, it was blatantly obvious to all who could see him. Despite his unprepared aura, he eagerly clutched a too large fishing pole in one hand, and a small tackle box in the other. His eyes alit as they fluttered around the pier, scoping out the best place to set up for the day.
The patches on her tweed jacket matched her slightly frayed sleeves, which she quite obviously had a habit of tearing and picking at. Despite her shabby appearance, she radiated a subtle elegance.