Morgen frowned lightly at her insistence, but he wouldn't argue with her; he rarely did. If she wanted to get dressed up for their parents, he guessed he didn't have any real good reason to say otherwise. Maybe he cared less about how they looked since this is how they had /always/ looked, to him. He'd never seen Morwen with washed, combed hair, or himself without the dirt smudging his face. The first time he ever saw anything was shortly after their escape from the Miraculum, when he'd seen through his sister's eyes. They'd been starving and ratty then, and maybe it was because he'd never seen before, but he didn't really understand what the big deal was. 

His shoulders hunched up when they returned to the streets, as if to ward off prying eyes and loud noises from all around. He kept his head down, obediently following in Morwen's footsteps, led along like a mule at the end of a rope. When she stopped, he paused beside her, waiting as she browsed the clothing. He could almost feel the shopkeep's impatience before the man even spoke. The boy shifted uncomfortable on his feet, head bowed. An awkward silence lapsed between them before he realized she was waiting for his response. His brow furrowed as he tried to recall the different colors Morwen had shown him on the rare occasions he peeked through her eyes. 

"Um... well. I guess I kinda like green..." He shook his head, then, and shrugged. "Just pick somethin' nice if you're gonna... I wanna go back to inside. I'm hungry." She could worry over clothes all she wanted; Morgen would worry about the food, what half-decent meal maybe they'd get tonight. It'd been two days since their last meal, a two-headed snake whose head had been crushed beneath a stone. The meat had tasted rotten, but they hadn't gotten sick, and it had given them enough energy to make it this far. He gave his sister's hand a brief squeeze, realizing he might have sounded a bit short with her.