Feymor stood dramatically still in front of a metal worker, who stared back at her with an obvious hint of confusion to his gaze. She froze at the realization Zenam had left her up there alone.
"W - well, maybe a nice piece of loincloth would fit what you're thinking of. Ferals around these parts love those," he tried again.
But Feymor did not move, she stared down at the wide selection of materials and pictures laid out before her on a counter. She heard the nearby furnace roar alive with flames.
The worker snapped his fingers in front of her, trying to break her out of her trance. Which worked. Feymor jumped back, afraid of what that meant.
"Ah, so you're here. Let's start from the beginning. What are you looking for?" he repeated himself from earlier.
"Is - is it odd to ask for many t'ings?" her defeated voice struggled to speak over all other voices.
"Not at all," the worker laughed. "It's normal."
Feymor gasped, feeling her cheeks light up red from the sheer pressure she felt in the moment. The worker grinned, taking a step back to show respect.
With plenty of planning and thorough thinking, Feymor pointed down at a picture of a cloak. She very carefully rehearsed her lines in her mind, before going through with it.
"T'is is to - to s'ield yourself from t'e world, rig't?" her timidness was glaring.
"Yeah, but a pretty young girl such as yourself does not need to shield herself. However, I can modify the cloak to fit a better role. Do you like warmth?" the worker changed the topic.
Despite not being a major shift, Feymor jumped back. Unsettled by the projection the conversation was taking, she did not plan it out before speaking. It took some time before she replied.
After running the question through multiple different ways, she replied. Keeping herself as close to relaxed as she could without seeming off.
"Y - yes, I like being warm. Especially during co - cold weat'er," Feymor carefully replied.
The worker nodded, approving of the response. Putting some relief into her as if she made the right choice.
"I can make this cloak out of wool to make you comfortable. Keeps you and another Variant of your choosing very close together, romantic, as the Crimson Lover would say," the worker replied.
As he jotted it down on a piece of paper, Feymor looked over her shoulder to see no one she knew was there. Her heart continued to beat like crazy, she was not ready for this kind of shift.
Even then, she felt at ease. She could use the cloak to bring herself closer to Qitor, as she always wanted to. Being the mother she wished she would have received.
"Okay, anything else?" the worker asked.
Feymor jumped at the sound of his voice, she panicked while scrambling through her mind to find what else she wanted. Her cheeks burned red again until the burning left.
"I... I u'... w'at are t'ese t'ings?" she pointed at another picture.
A leather strap held a piece of metal plating over the left breast tight against an invisible figure. In the very middle of the plate was a sharp blade sticking out.
It appeared to be a very last resort, just in case the other limbs were unable to fight back or were busy with other things. Feathers lined the back of the strap to fit the entire thing together.
The metal worker laughed. "That's a Noble Brute's Strap. It is the product of Infinus, Ophus, and Encur as one. We decided to make these separately this year because they were so widely sought last year."
Feymor imagined her alpha male wearing it, showing his gratitude by echoing her name at the back of his throat. She nodded cheerfully, hoping to feel the approval someday.
"Amazing, what else?" the worker said while writing it down.
Before Feymor could say anything else, Qitor approached her. A brotherly feeling attracted Feymor closer to her sibling, making her feel safe.
She opened her mouth again, no plan in mind. "W'at is somet'ing fit for an alp'a female?"
The metal worker nodded, sighing as he did so. He was unsure of what to respond with, however there were good choices. All he needed to know was some more information.
He pointed out four pictures, each one with their own style to them. One of them was a large bag that ran from upper back to knees. The second was a bladed outfit. The third were some gauntlets designed for killing with fashion.
And for the last piece, a large belt kept several resources together. Such as rope, tools hung from the bottom, small hooks designed to grapple in place, and two pouches for carrying resources around.
Qitor smiled at the fourth option, something that Feymor noticed. Her heart led her closer to the fourth option until she thought of the utility.
Scalers could grapple in place and deal with vertical movement better than any other Feral, they also rarely used tools, and the pouches were too small for anything big. Which stopped her in place.
"You seem to be keeping a keen eye on the Frontline Backer Belt, not as hot in fashion as the Noble Brute Strap but sure got more work done. What do you say?"
"Well, can you modify t'e pouc'es to be bigger and remove some of t'e added weig't?" Feymor asked.
The metal worker brought his finger down on another picture across the counter. It was about another belt, but this one seemed different.
It was its own armor set, albeit different. All it was were pants and a sturdy belt with two large pouches tied around the back. Several more pouches ran down the pants, although they were smaller.
"Carrier's Tread, it's an upgrade to the original. Perfect for heavy duty lifting, plenty of the hunting Ferals ask for these," the metal worker explained.
Feymor nodded. "T'at's all. W'at currency does Imbus'ko use?"
The worker blankly stared at her. "Uh, none. Just take and go, we have other things to worry about."
Qitor tugged on his sister's arm. "That little Yonie want's us all to see him, let's hurry up. I've been waiting to tell you this."