The Street with No Name, as it was often called, harbored very few Barakkans. Being one of the least interesting side streets, it was mainly lined with hostels and small boardinghouses, populated by a motley assortment of world travelers who lacked the funds for anything more hospitable. Several of them were too impoverished to leave Lamenolai, having spent all their money on shiny trinkets to bring home in the first few days of their journey; most, however, didn't mind too much, captivated by the wonders of the city.
Gattley, of course, knew nothing of this. He had visited Lamenolai while he was still with the circus, but his time had been spent either in his cage or performing, so he'd had little chance to see the city. All he knew at the moment was that he had been directed in the general direction of this place with the vague instruction to "see the world", and had judged the Street with No Name as a nicely unobtrusive alley for a large winged serpent to land in. He was not really sure what seeing the world entailed. Perhaps it was his new mistress's polite version of leaving him by the side of the road.
Whatever his purpose, he was unlikely to see very much in this side street. Ignoring the stares of three small children just outside one of the hostels--he was used to being stared at anyway--he slithered toward the source of the background noise he'd been hearing for the last few minutes. However, as soon as he poked his head out, he was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of people in the streets. It didn't look as though there was much room for him to move on the ground, so he glanced at the sky to see if flight was acceptable. Once, in the joy of being released from his circus cage, he had taken wing and later been punished for flying without command, an experience he hoped not to repeat.
To his relief, Gattley spotted several creatures in flight, and therefore judged it reasonable to take to the air. Once above the crowd, he noticed several more people staring at him--maybe they were unused to Seraphents. Or--and this, he thought dismally, was more likely--there was some rule against flying in this strange city, and the privilege was reserved for such elite as those creatures of the air he had taken his cues from. As more eyes were turned on him, he became certain of the truth of these thoughts, and landed as far from the people as possible in his shame.
He flattened himself against the wall, trying not to be seen. Maybe he wouldn't be beaten this time...