"'Scuse me... pardon me... really sorry 'bout this..." Eloween weaved her way through the streets of Brightvale, pausing every now and again to mumble apologies to anyone she so much as brushed against. Most of them didn't even spare her a glance. They were used to the hustle and bustle of city life, and had likely battled against crowds far more ferocious than this. For Eloween, however, this was all new. She'd grown up in  Bogshot, a small village composed of a few, ramshackle wooden huts and surrounded on all sides by dense, marshy wilderness. She'd spent her early years learning how to silently move through the trees, avoid quicksand and tell the threat of any given plant or creature from a glance. Her eyes were used to lowlight, her ears used to the only sounds being her own footsteps and the occassional call of some wild petpet. Even the past couple of years she'd spent in Meridell couldn't have prepared her for this. There, things were less developed, more spread out, with farms, ranches and shops all seperated by large open fields, small clumps of woodland and winding, empty roads.

Here, everything was so much louder, brighter, and instead of greenery and unstable ground, she had to navigate through buildings and people. It was overwhelming, especially whenever she caught one of the passersby glancing in her direction. Could they tell she didn't belong here? Could they sense the wild on her, smell the dampness of the bog, see the tears in her clothes, the mud on her hooves? Were they disgusted, appalled that such a person was allowed near their little piece of civilisation?

... was that how Nora viewed her now?

That single thought seemed to knock any remaining breath out of her, and she came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the street. A few of the more disgruntled passersby muttered something along the lines of "Watch what you're doing!" or "Move it!", but otherwise continued on their way with little thought spared towards her. For once, she didn't notice. There was a tightness in her chest, like someone's hand grasped around her heart, and applying more and more pressure as the seconds passed by. She couldn't move, but she was vaguely aware that her legs were starting to give way beneath her.

She suddenly caught a flash of orange and blue at the bottom of her vision, and glanced down to see her gallion, Wyler, pressing her body against the ixi's legs, as if in an attempt to steady her. Eloween opened her mouth, perhaps to reassure the petpet that she was alright, but no words came out, only pained gasps. Her vision started to swim before her eyes, and she stumbled awkwardly in an attempt to keep her footing. Wyler, realising she didn't have much time to act, grabbed up some of the fabric of Eloween's trouser leg with her mouth and started pulling the ixi to the side of the road and out of the pathway of any disapproving citygoers. Eloween didn't resist, allowing the gallion to guide her until they came to rest by one of Brightvale's many shops - this one helpfully labelled 'Royal Potionery' - which Eloween leaned against as she attempted to regain her bearings. Wyler kept close to her, her tail wrapped protectively around the ixi's feet. Any passerbys who dared so much as look in their direction were met with the glare of the gallion's eyes and the flash of her teeth, as if to say "What do you think you're looking at?"

Eventually, Eloween's vision returned to normal and she felt herself being able to breath again. Her legs still felt like jello, however, and under normal circumstances, she would have liked to wait a little longer until she was sure she could walk without the danger of falling flat on her face. Of course, these weren't normal circumstances, so, at risk of looking like a complete fool, she cautiously stepped away from the wall. Once again, she stumbled a little, and had to use Wyler to steady her, but she wasn't about to be deterred from her goal. If she remembered correctly, Brightvale Castle wasn't too far away from the Potionary, and with Wyler's help, she managed to make her way to the end of the street, where the dirt path was replaced with a cobblestone road, the castle looming just at the end. She could make out the shapes of two neopets - a draik and a scorchio - in conversation as the castle's gate began to lower. She approached them, not sure whether to call out a greeting or let them wait until they finished speaking, and instead just hovered awkwardly behind the scorchio, hoping to eventually be noticed.