[@SIGINT]
The next question was what she was in the mood for. What type of food sounded the best. Even some weird alien cuisine would be nice. Actually, maybe some pasta. It had been a good few weeks since she had eaten any good pasta that wasn't dry. So many options and so little money for the young stowaway.

But as she began to drift off, not really concentrating on her surroundings, Grazia immediately snapped to attention once the small child started yelling at her about something. What was this about her hair being pink? She often got comments on it, from ones about how it made her stand out to ones about how it suited her personality. But she never really got one like this. She blushed in embarrassment over being called out like this.

The girl sounded like she was freaking out. Grazia slowly tried to figure out what her deal was. Was she concerned about her pink hair or was this a case of a little kid making a big deal out of the smallest issues; the child couldn't have been older than 7 or 8 from the looks of it.

Shouting down, she tried to attest the situation. [color=f49ac2]What about my pink hair?![/color] Her tone was one of confusion with a little bit of concern. Maybe it was her maternal instincts or the fact she planned on having a child of her own sometime in the future, but whenever she saw a child freaking out, she couldn't just ignore it and walk on by. [color=f49ac2][i]Should I give her a closer look?[/i][/color] She said, considering going down there.