"He certainly has an odd get up Muglin," Rose tells her crow, who just happened to be pecking at her forearm. She didn't recognize the kind of attire he wore, but that wasn't what interested her. His weapon, the gun he carried with him, was what caught her attention. [i]"Steal it and kill everyone in here!"[/i]

Rose ignores the advice, instead nonchalantly sitting a seat away from the man. She didn't say a word, merely looking opposite his direction and deciding what to say. Her social anxiety always got the best of her, always making her worry if the voice in her head will speak for her. She became visibly nervous, tugging at her scarf and eyes darting around. 

[i]"Quit being a wimp and just kill him already!"[/i] Rose frowns at her "friend's" comment, setting her head on the table in front of her. Why did socializing have to be so hard?