They were looking for her. Rissie had no idea how her grandparents had found out about her escape so soon, but from her discussion with Mary, she knew that there simply couldn't be any other green Zora that the man was talking about. Would her face be on wanted posters? Would everyone here know to look for her? It seemed ludicrous that either could be true, but as she climbed down (after making sure that the man who'd told Mary had left), she couldn't help but feel as if everyone was appraising her. Suddenly, this area with all this music and dancing and fun seemed too public. Sure, she could blend into a crowd, but then anyone could grab her; any of the people she'd be swimming through could want to turn her in for a bounty. No, it would be safer to find some place open so that she could be more aware of her surroundings.

The only problem with that was finding such a place. It seemed as if the city were full to overflowing; everywhere she looked was a crowd. It wasn't until she'd aimlessly wandered about for a couple hours before the crowds seemed to thin. She was now passing closed shops, and everyone was, more-or-less rushing in the same direction, leaving the streets relatively empty.

It took her a few moments to realize that she'd made a full circuit. Right there was the balcony she climbed to, right across the way from the milk bar. Now, though, the place was like a ghost town; the performers were gone, as was their music. Instead, a lonely toll, followed by an eerie muffled cheer slowly bounced up the road. The only other noise was of a door opening and then creaking shut. Someone had just exited the milk bar.

Rissie turned and glanced at him, and, more than she had before when surrounded by so many people, suddenly felt a jolt of fear. He was looking right at her, squinting, cataloging the oddities that made her unique. And then he smiled, and started to approach her. Rissie turned to make sure that there was nothing of interest behind her, since if there were, he could have been going for that, but there was nothing but that easy-to-climb wall. She glanced back at him as he got closer, that disconcerting smile on his face.

"Hey there girly, why aren't you at the parade?" Something seemed to drip in his voice, though it was possible that he was trying to sound non-threatening. That was enough to convince Rissie: this was not a good place to be. In fact, she had undoubtedly been safer when surrounded by all those people! And so, without saying anything back, she dashed up the road in the direction everyone else had been going, leaving the man (hopefully) behind.

She didn't bother to check if he were chasing her. Rissie had read enough stories where the hapless princesses had almost gotten away, except that they turned to look back and then tripped and were caught. She wasn't going to make the same mistake. Thankfully the way to the crowds wasn't difficult to find, and once she was there amongst the cheering and the gasps of awe, she barged right in and began struggling her way through. The more people she put between her and her would-be captor, the better.

And so it was, much to the disgruntlement of the many people whom she jabbed and kicked and ran into on her way through the sea of bodies, that Rissie was suddenly out, and slammed right into a wooden palisade. Thankfully she hadn't been going too fast, so she could scramble up quickly without too much pain, the people next to her startled that anyone had managed to squeeze between them (squished as they themselves were in such prime spots). And as she stood, rubbing the hurt out of her forehead and knee, she saw them. A whole army of men, it seemed, on magnificent horses. These creatures put her grandparent's wonderful steeds to shame; they were large and regal, with perfect coats, and from here she could see the firey passion in their eyes. "Wow," she muttered, momentarily stunned (and not by having just slammed into a wall). She would have to ask her grandparents for such a horse when she got back.