I stomped a little on my way back toward the northeastern district, where the Oak Knot was. My mood, which was pretty good after figuring out what I could about the Stash, had been thoroughly soured by the encounter with that ’Luca’.
> What did he an... hope you know what you’re doing? As if there’s anything happening at all! <
Vrika had nothing to offer but a silence to my childishness that sohow felt more judgntal than actual whines, barks, whimpers, or even words would have been. A few blocks away from the park, I finally pulled out my phone and scrolled through the photos I’d taken.
They were surprisingly good - in my limited opinion. So much so that, before I could overthink it, I selected the best one and tapped the places on the screen to add it to a ssage.
C: [Beautiful city you have here. The humans are nice. The wolves and lingering scents I have mixed feelings about.]
I hit send before I could change my mind, leaving to question what had possessed to reach out to her this morning. After the strangely charged end to our unplanned dinner, much less after that conversation with one of her pack mbers.
"Am I trying to provoke her through this and get a reaction?"
> No. Just showing I’m fine without her being the one checking on constantly. That’s all it is. <
Vrika’s tail flicked in my mindscape when I looked in and spoke to it. Contradicting while still being fairly quiet - these new tricks that it is learning to deal with are vexing!
Shoving the phone back in my pocket and quickening my pace to put distance between myself and that mont of... whatever it was, the sunlight was warm on both sides of my face. Yes, the sunlight... coming from a single direction.
The city had sprung to life as I sat up there and watched the sunrise. Pedestrian’s all around clutched bags and travel mugs as cars rumbled along the roads and shopkeepers raised front door security gates with noisy tallic rattles on their sidewalks.
My initial plan had been to return directly to my motel room, but the restless energy still crackling through made that prospect unappealing... and five blocks from my motel, on a street I’ve not yet been on, a faded sign caught my attention.
It sat above a small shop with dusty cornered windows and read [Sarah’s Second Chance] with a smaller line of [Thrift & Consignnt]. Racks of clothing in all sorts of shades, shelves cluttered with mismatched housewares, and bins overflowing with all sorts of things.
An older woman was just unlocking the front door, a massive ring of keys jingling as she did so. How could anyone even need to access so many locks?!
"Good morning! Early shoppers get to see the best new finds I placed out last night. Co on in, I was just about to turn the lights on."
Cheerfully her voice called out to as she spotted my hovering on the sidewalk, looking through the window at the things inside. I hadn’t planned to stop, but sothing about her enthusiasm and the chaotic jumble of items visible inside pulled forward.
> Maybe it reminds a little more of the bazaars than the pawnshop did? <
The shop slled of old fabric with what I think is the cloying dical scent of ’mothballs’. Even that didn’t hide the faintest traces of various forr human owners still stubbornly stuck on so many of the items, even after they had been washed or wiped down.
"Are you looking for anything specific?"
In her thick clothing to fight the morning temperatures, she bustled behind a counter with an amazing spryness for her age. A number of overhead fluorescent lights flickered to life and the cluttered space gained a harsh glow when she flipped a series of switches...
> And of course that annoying buzz. Does this sound really not bother humans? <
"Just browsing, I think. Is that alright?"
Already I was moving toward a display for accessories that caught my eye. My fingers trailed over inferior feeling scarves, costu jewelry of plastic and glass, and hair accessories that had so attractiveness despite their low quality.
A blue color drew my attention in a plastic bin near the bottom marked [KIDS’ STUFF - $1 EACH]. Rummaging through until I’d collected the paired set of large, translucent, deep sapphire spheres.
"Hair ties, interesting..."
The blue ’gems’ weren’t real, of course, because humans here did not just give such precious items to their children who might lose them. But sothing about them called to , even made of plastic.
Reminding of glossier versions of the genuine sapphires the Queen Mother used to wear in private. Stones that drank the light like pools of water glowing softly at midnight.
Turning them over speculatively in my hand I find that - despite being childish trinkets - they were in good condition. The elastics sealed within the material still had their spring and the spheres were free of any marring.
"Those are cute. Little girl items end up here all the ti when they outgrow their tiny princess phase."
When her voice started, I glanced up, realizing the shopkeeper had been watching with a kind smile. Probably thinking I was rembering sothing more common for a human of this world - like having a set of these when I was younger.
> Well, Helene didn’t for sure. Parents cut her hair short until she was eight, then braids. <
"They’re a nice color."
"They’d look lovely on you. Dark hair, fair skin - deep blues and reds are good for beauty, young or old."
I found myself nodding, pleased by the simple complints even though I knew she was just trying to make a sale. Without debating it, I placed the hair ties on the counter.
"I’ll take these."
"Just those? Feel free to look around more before you go, if you have ti. We’ve got plenty of practical things too that have lots of life left in them. Shoes, kitchen items... I even just got so decent towels yesterday at the consignnt section."
The ntion of household items made realize that I’d been so focused on imdiate survival needs, like food, that I hadn’t considered what small comforts might make my temporary motel ho more livable for the next few days.
> And it’s not like any of it would go to waste. I’d be able to store it along with everything else when it cos ti to move, right? <
Wandering through the cramped aisles, I pick up a few things. A soft fleece throw blanket in a neutral gray, a mug with a rather charming foxdesign, and a pair of simple looking sneakers that would give sothing else to use - so I don’t wear out these nicer flats.
Eventually, I brought my modest pile to the counter when sothing else caught my eye hanging behind the register. A faded leather ssenger bag hung on a hook - nothing like the brand new elegant burgundy bag I’d admired in the boutique window the other day.
But it had a sturdy, practical quality that appealed to after the ti wearing these totes and the backpack. Once I’m able to actually use the Stash with a large container, I won’t need to walk around with all those anymore... but having one bag on my person would be prudent.
"Is that for sale?"
> I swear if you snort at one more ti, you’re getting the snakes again! <
Vrika seed to be enjoying my willingness to buy things, but not the items I picked. Since when is a backwoods wolf any good at choosing human goods in the first place?
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