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[b]//O4 - Main Streets[/b]

Was it really [i]that bad[/i]?

Her own appearance, of course, not the city itself. That much was assuredly [i]awful[/i] to behold, and downright torturous to smell -certainly by comparison to her home city, but by now Sebi had long come to grips with the reality of Oratorio and its surrounding legion of despondent hovels.

Tied up into a long, waving tail, Sebi's normally floor-and-then-some length hair was [i]supposed[/i] to be protected from the elements, but even being spared from dragging directly across mud and muck it was still always teetering close to the edge, and every step taken along her and her daughter's journey meant a chance that something got kicked right up and into it. Her clothing, bright and soft, stood out against Oratorio's commonfolk, and much like the citizens themselves, dirt also stood out just as starkly... which also clung tenaciously to Sebi's attire.

She would admit -in her own head, anyways- that the journey did not treat her regal appearance well. The smell she would thoroughly reject, but she was just as tenacious as the dirt, and took it all in stride. Her daughter would object to such an assessment -at least towards the start of their trek.

For the time being, the two vulpine women took the guard's racist comments with little more than a blink of the eyes. They'd already heard it several times before on their approach to Oratorio, and until a time as their newness (and filthiness) no longer seemed the driving factor for mistreatment, they'd let them slide.

The two stepped away from the guards, even as Sebi continued mulling over responses and excuses in her head to try and convince the guards one more time. But her legs realized the defeat before her brain did, and carried her away anyways. Perhaps attuned precisely to the sound of windfall itself, Sebi's pricked ears turned unnaturally quickly towards the source of a young man's greeting, and she practically whipped her ponytail into her daughter beside her as she turned around. It took nary a millisecond before her assessment of the young noble sparked a glimmer of hope, and Sebi put on her brightest smile, and her proudest posture.

"Why cer-!"

[i]He went right past me![/i]

He went right past her.

Sebi's glittering expression soured immediately, once more dragged down by the wear and tear of harsh travel. Sumiye, ever-attentive to her mother's thoughts, allowed a giggle to escape her. Sebi leveled a sad, puppy-eyed look to her daughter, begging for sympathy, but received nothing but smug amusement. She wouldn't allow herself to be defeated [i]twice[/i] in three minutes. Sebi began to approach the noble, but before she could speak, Sumiye grabbed her gently on the shoulder and shook her head -a gesture to give up. Sebi sighed petulantly.

Still, the blonde woman beside this noble's interest seemed a touch more... important, in some ways, and Sebi wondered to herself if the artist had made not one but [i]two[/i] mistakes in so choosing the dark-haired girl. With crossed arms and a pouting face, she watched and waited, perhaps even somewhat hoping that the artist was reprimanded for his terrible taste.

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