Nova
Clever as the devil
Nova follows Aithne in the door, moving with such force that the glass rattles a little. The shop owner is a cranky old woman in a myriad of prints who glares at them, eyes darting to their own clothes, paying particular attention to their hands and where they might wander.
She couldn't care less about what suspicions the woman has about her. She could make things a thousand times cuter that these marginal attempts at 'fashion.' Instead, she peruses the options, flicking them dismissively when they don't pique her interest. Too monotonous. Too plain. Too 'standard' looking. Too boring.
"Oooh. Definitely accessories." Nova spins at the suggestion, spotting the headband first. A sharp gasp chimes through the air. "OH! THIS WOULD BE SO CUTE!" She lifts it up, sliding the chunky white headband between her blonde and turquoise strands. "Could you imagine this in gold scales?!" The expression on her face is so bright and excited that it could undeniably rival an exploding star, brokering no argument to the contrary.
She couldn't care less about what suspicions the woman has about her. She could make things a thousand times cuter that these marginal attempts at 'fashion.' Instead, she peruses the options, flicking them dismissively when they don't pique her interest. Too monotonous. Too plain. Too 'standard' looking. Too boring.
"Oooh. Definitely accessories." Nova spins at the suggestion, spotting the headband first. A sharp gasp chimes through the air. "OH! THIS WOULD BE SO CUTE!" She lifts it up, sliding the chunky white headband between her blonde and turquoise strands. "Could you imagine this in gold scales?!" The expression on her face is so bright and excited that it could undeniably rival an exploding star, brokering no argument to the contrary.
and twice as pretty
