The good news is, they're basically the only two humans down here today, so if they get separated the locals are more likely than not to direct them back towards one another. And while they might not feel especially special, the pair is already getting some stares. Compared to the myriad of colorful chimeric characters swimming through the spiral streets, Koa and Talyson stick out like taupe in a rainbow painting, or a dead patch of grass in an otherwise green lawn.
Koa realizes none of this: he's too entranced by his surroundings for any amount of self-reflection, his wide eyes darting from stall to stall as Tal points between them. Intrinsically drawn to any sort of weaponry, he floats toward a set of obsidian brass knuckles, admiring the craftsmanship as he bobs beside the table.
Koa realizes none of this: he's too entranced by his surroundings for any amount of self-reflection, his wide eyes darting from stall to stall as Tal points between them. Intrinsically drawn to any sort of weaponry, he floats toward a set of obsidian brass knuckles, admiring the craftsmanship as he bobs beside the table.
