[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/T7qbbS2.png[/img]
[h3]Aventon[/h3]
[/center]

Rayne’s initial browsing and chatting proved productive, as she first found out that 1, yes, there were people other than humans out there, and that 2, some of them need the same kind of fit that she did. Just about anyway. The cloth seller offered to do just a bit of tailoring to make things fit just right, with which she happily agreed. Naturally this process involved a fair bit of chatting while measuring and sowing, during which the question of who they were and why they were here, one which Rayne answered quite frankly. Unsurprisingly, having not seen them in action (or straight up appear from the sky in one case), the caravaners were a fair bit more skeptical than the villagers when it came to the whole ‘being summoned from another world by a goddess no one had ever heard of’ deal. 

Still, it passed the time, and soon enough, Rayne had a small but respectable set of changes of clothes that actually fit her short frame. A welcome change after a week of ill fitting garbs and repeatedly washing the same outfit over and over. 

One of these, a simple cream tunic, she slipped away from the caravan inorder to slip into, returning wearing it, some dark stockings, her belt with pouches, her red scarf and a pair of feathers in her hair. It was an outfit which would have made her bend in with the people of this a fair bit more, were it not for her ears, stark white hair, and the way she casually floated above the ground.

She returned just in time to find what seemed to be something of a standoff between the other wordlers and the caravan guards. Or if not a standoff then at least a whole lot of posturing. 

She couldn’t say she was a fan.  She’d been hoping to have a chance to take a look at some of the books, a dense collection of info about this world could only help, and it could pass the time while traveling, but it looked like they needed to avoid some kind of altercation. She’d missed the why of why this was happening, but she stuck her nose into the problem anyway, as heroes were prone to do.

“Maybe we could give some kind of demonstration? Or have a friendly competition? Outside of the village, where there’s less risk of, ah, accidents” she suggested on the heels of Anne’s goading. She did not want to know what Fran using her powers inside of the village would do to it, and she wasn’t exactly one to talk to either, risk of collateral damage wise. You couldn't exactly cast a spell called Armageddon when anything you cared about was nearby and expect it to still be standing once things were over after all.