A moment.
Our nine Atlanticans found their new surroundings quite shocking to say the least, as you would if you found yourself in similar circumstances. As a result, they elected to group up in a corner and attempt to make sense of where, exactly, they were.
The discussion was led by the two parties that held the most power, King Triton and Ursula. What began as a discussion turned into a heated argument, fast. In the end, Sebastian took up arms in defense of the King, Eric tried to get both sides to see reason, and the remaining members of the party were ignored.
At first they watched with varying degrees of interest. It wasn't long, though, before they grew bored. Scuttle wandered over to a stand that smelled of yeast and sugar. Flounder decided to turn his attention to his new hands and feet, curling and uncurling his fingers with great fascination. Ariel leaned against the wall and fell into her favorite pass time: people watching. The humans in this place, where ever it was, were among the strangest she had ever seen. Some carried giant pieces of luggage, some had hair in colors Ariel had never seen on a human, and most were infatuated with little flat boxes that glowed in their hands. One man in particular held his box to his ear. He charged forward, looked neither right nor left, and spoke to an invisible person about something that must have been very important. Ariel wondered if he was ill.
Beyond the people milling about, the smells of bread and cinnamon and less pleasant things, Ariel was vaguely aware of the argument, but all this newness was too distracting, too interesting, for her to waste time hearing an argument she was sure would repeat itself many a time before they found their way home. While she was… wherever they were… she would take advantage and learn about, well, everything she could!
While she was examining a poster of what she could only guess was a play, something else caught her eye. It took her a moment to realize the people she was watching were part of their group. The witch's henchmen had wandered a ways off near a bench. On it sat a woman who was absorbed in a glossy pamphlet Ariel figured was some sort of news paper. Beside her was a large bag slumped open. Ariel's eyes widened as she watched the henchmen glance at the bag, share a smirk, and move in.
She couldn't let this happen.
Ariel was across the room in seconds, with Flounder on her heels telling her to let it be. She reached the henchmen the second one of them picked up the bag.
With nothing more than a glare, she snatched the bag away.
"What are you doing?" she hissed.
The sound of Ariel's voice caught the woman's attention. She looked up and caught sight of Ariel holding her bag.
"That's my purse!" the woman cried.
Ariel tried to explain- really, she did- but even she had to admit that the woman had caught her in a rather incriminating position. Next thing she knew, a man dressed in what she guessed was a guard's uniform was wondering over to them. She placed the bag back onto the bench and was going to stay and explain, but the others had a different idea.
Ariel was grabbed by the arm and pulled down a winding corridor. The last thing she saw were Eric and her father calling after her.