"Good to see y'all safe and sound." I wrap my arms around Astrid, running my hands through her blonde, striped fur. She shudders at the close proximity, but I can feel her smile against my deep red skin. I let go and embrace Zenith, warming them up, since they can only rely on wool jackets. They hug me back and their claws knead against my clothes.
"Nice to see you too, Roxley." Astrid pushes Kurtis forward from
behind her.
"Yeah, whatever. Glad you both are doing fine." Kurtis scoffs,
but I can see the slight grin peering at his dry lips. His torn, dirty coat flows in the slight breeze, and his dark hair curls in the same direction, covering his left eye. He brushes the hair over, so he can see. His narrow, furless tail is snatched close to his body for warmth, and his cold-sensitive ears are folded back.
Astrid is wearing a light jacket, and her flannel shorts rest on her
large thighs. Her fur peeks out of her jacket, since there's such a large amount of it, and her muscles are just as visible.
Meanwhile, Zenith is wearing a thick coat, the wool-lined hood
covering their horns and ears, protecting them from the winds. Though, because we don't make pants or shoes for Dracona, they aren't wearing any. Only a belt with a crotch cloth sits on their waist.
"So, we're stealing some clothes, right?" Kurtis recites, a sneaky
grin playing on his long face.
"Wait what?" Astrid cuts in, her eyes growing large.
"Yeah, we're gonna get some clothes for us, as not to be
recognized in public. Since, y'know, we just escaped and are now globally wanted." I contend with a smart-ass tone, gesturing to us all with my hands.
"Right… we're criminals now…"
"Anyways, let's do this now. I'm bored." The rat walks up to the
door and opens it, ignoring the rest of us.
I grab onto the handle and hold it since Kurtis couldn't be
bothered. Once Samson enters last, I trail behind him, closing the glass door.
The store is quite open-concept, with an island display in the
center of the room, and racks of shirts and sweaters hanging on the walls. A few circular frames sit around the room shelving trousers and shorts, while ledges against the back wall hold shoes of much variety. There is a register sitting to one side, and a grey, floppy-eared Oryctian stands there helping out customers with round eyes.
"I think sweaters would be a good choice for you Zenith." I point
out with a friendly smile.
The purple dragon nods and rummages through a rack with
mutely colored jumpers. I spot Kurtis shoving a long cloak in his bag, mischief twitching in his short ears; his tail plucks a beanie off the table behind him. I snicker at his tomfoolery while making my way over to Astrid, who seems to be having a hard time picking out new clothes.
"You doin' alright over here?"
The poor cat didn't hear me and jumps at my sudden voice.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to spook ya'." I give a quick
response, guilt flowing through my tone.
"Roxley, it's just you." She sighs in relief, then turns to me and
holds up a lilac shawl and a plum turtleneck. "Which one suits me more?"
"I like them both, but the plum suits your complexion better."
I drag my bony finger along the felt fabric for a moment, then
head over to Samson. I smirk at his frustration with the options in front of him, his clenched jaw and furrowed brows giving away his obvious distaste.
"…such fatuous jumpers," he mutters while skimming the rack.
"You don't like these, I presume?"
"No, these are absolutely hideous. This one has a knitting pattern
in which even a peasant could replicate." Samson holds up a standard sweater with a disgusted scowl.
"Wow, it's just a cheap sweater. There's no need to get all
worked up about it."
"Exactly! It's cheap, that's the issue. You wouldn't understand."
He curses under his breath at that last part.
"Well then, I suppose you'll just get caught in a velvet vest and
bowtie since you can't handle being on the run." I shrug, brooding off in annoyance.
"Wait!" Samson grabs my arm, his puppy-dog eyes looking into
mine as I turn to him. As soon as we make eye contact, he darts his gaze elsewhere, embarrassed.
"Can you help me, you know, find something?" His voice quivers
a bit, his short-muzzled nose twitching.
"Only if you stop being a wealthy bastard, and start acting a bit
more like the criminal you are," I demand snarkily as he lets go of my arm.
"Thank you. I can't find anything I like." He restates, glancing up
at me, his ears pushed back and down.
"I'm sure there's something. What about this?" I pluck a navy-
blue sweatshirt with an argyle pattern across the chest area off of the metal framing to show him.
He surveys the fabric and pattern for a moment.
"No, I want something… nicer. More formal."
I furrow my brows. Formal?! What is this kid thinking?
"Well, tough luck. You need to blend in!" I explain, hoping he'll
get it through to that thick skull of his.
"Whatever. Not this though, it's too tight." He shoots his gaze to
the floor again, annoyed at the fact that he'll have to wear more peasantry clothes.
"Okay then. Maybe more of a church shirt." I shuffle over to a
different rack.
I pinch a hanger and look at it a bit before flicking through the
shirts around it.
"These are nice." I chirp, holding up a grey tunic.
"I prefer shirts that stay above my waistline." He scoffs, eyeing
the item hastily.
I sigh, putting it back. He's just so…pompous.
"Ooh, this one would look good on you!" I pull up a lace-collared
blouse with long sleeves, form-fitting around the cuffs.
"Wow, that actually is very lovely." Samson caresses the silky
fabric, getting a feel for it.
Finally, something he likes.
He nods in delight, tossing it over his arm.
"Thank- Thank you." He mutters, making gentle eye contact.
"Thank you for helping me find something…"
"You're welcome." I clap my hand against his upper arm, going
off to find me some new clothes.
I walk over to a rack and pull a sleek leather jacket off. I admire
it, comparing it to the one I'm wearing, acknowledging the large quality difference. I switch the two and smirk at the new-found comfortability. I then shuffle towards a pants shelf, and pick up a pair of cargos; they'll be quite useful for pickpocketing. I push them into my bag, then wander off towards the long-sleeved shirts. I eye a deep maroon shirt, closely resembling the shade of my skin, and search for a black shade of it instead.
Aha! My hand glides over the tight fabric of the turtleneck, the
shirt's smoothness certainly adds to my satisfaction. I slip it into the bag as well, happy with my choice. It'll help when in action since it won't get caught on branches or door handles as easily baggy clothes would.
I make my way towards the front of the store, acting as if I simply
had no interest in purchasing anything. I notice that several others have done the same, Kurtis, Astrid, and Samson stand waiting in silence.
"Where's Zenith?" I ask, glancing around the room.
Astrid shrugs, as does Kurtis. As my eyes travel, a towering
purple figure arises from behind an aisle.
"I just dropped one, don't worry, I'm still here." They smile at me
from across the room.
I grin back, giving them a thumbs up. Zenith scurries to us,
loosely grasping a gorgeous coffee-colored poncho. Or a cloak, however you prefer to call it.
"Cute! Shove it in here, would you?" I hold up the bag to them.
The dragon nods and gently pushes it inside the cloth bag, then
pulls the drawstrings to close it.
"We ready to dash?" I ask, throwing the bag over my shoulder.
The others nod and we head out the door, hoping to go unnoticed.
This will all go smoothly if we're stealthy.