It was telling how throughout two years of having been within Hargeon, Vyra had seen so little of the actual city. Her time had been largely left through the parts most immediate of the Blue Pegasus Guild Hall that for her to venture through these parts now, she may as well have been a foreigner like so many whom wandered the streets. At least, she assumed them to be foreigners. Truth be told, she even found herself asking that same sort of question of people whom were in Blue Pegasus.

Faces in the crowd.

Outside of Alisa, and a couple of other members whom she had developed some level of report towards, it felt like everyone was a stranger. Those who seemed to know of her knew her more for the relationship she had with Alisa. Derogatory in nature or not, the term ‘Alisa’s pet’ was one that she had heard thrown about once or twice before, and though few would be as willing to disclose something like that in public, likely it were sentiment felt to some.

That made it all the more awkward being within this part of Hargeon. Was she more recognized as being this sort of mascot within Blue Pegasus, or was she just like the rest of these people? She didn’t know. And part of her was happy for that. Perhaps here would be a chance to see what the people really were like, that is, without them having the subtle threat of being on the wrong side of Alisa hanging over their head.

But then again, maybe it would have been no different than before everything.

The first days of her in Hargeon were still fully present within her memory, the cruel reception she had received - not unlike that of so many other locations before it - was something that she found herself almost expecting, especially in a relatively-new place like this. A sense of self-consciousness swept over her as a crackling sound from behind her caused her to turn around in a hasty moment of fright. Though nothing, it left her with an uneasy feeling. Not particularly calmness, but neither purely of fear. Maybe both?

Her pace quickened, wanting to spend as little time in the streets as she could. What she thought would have been interesting to explore instead had her questioning the decision. Moments passed before her accelerated walking had turned itself into a slow sprint, paranoia beginning to spread the longer she spent in this unknown part of the city.

She had been so fixated on what may have been around her that she had neglected what was in front. And did not realize it until it was too late.

Vyra fell backwards, landing hard upon the cobblestone road; not hard enough to hurt herself so much, but certainly to break her out of her persistent daydream. Only as she looked up did it dawn upon her the obstacle were in fact a person.

She had just absentmindedly run right into a woman in the middle of the street, with absolutely no regard towards her.

Panic echoed upon her face as the Demi-Human realized this, getting up as quickly as possible – the pain from her fall then radiating through her body – as she checked the woman, fearful for what may have happened to them, “Are you alright!?”

“I’m so sorry… I just, I guess I wasn’t paying attention… so sorry…” Her eyes turned to the ground for a moment, noticing the small little bits littered upon the ground, knocked out of the woman’s hands upon Vyra’s collision. “I don’t have much jewels, but I can pay for those, if you’d like…”

Worried or embarrassed. It was hard to say quite what Vyra was more feeling. Though embarrassed for herself certainly, more she worried for the woman whom she had run into. Looking up did she finally get a chance to appreciate her appearance for the first time. The woman towered over Vyra, even from her partially-crouched position could she see that there was probably a foot or more between their respective heights. Adorn in dark garments, her presence certainly stood out amongst the crowd, with perhaps not a single passerby dressed in even somewhat similar.

Vyra found it hard to pull her eyes away, fascinated by the woman. Rich purple eyes set against a pale complexion looked down upon her not with the disdain or hated that Vyra would have to expect out of someone whom would be in that same situation, but rather a look of worry. Unexpected, much like the soft voice that came from the woman’s mouth, sharing the same sentiment of care that her eyes portrayed.

Despite the faint burning sensation that radiated through her lower backside, Vyra flashed a weak smile towards the woman, “I’m fine.” Finding her own words hardly convincing, the Demi-Human instead turned her attention as quickly as able towards the items that had been displaced only moments earlier. Notebooks, small glass vials full of color in various states of fullness, brushes of varying lengths and thicknesses, she hastily began to reach for things before she peered up again as the woman introduced herself. A different voice caught her off guard, but as she turned to the large cat-like creature watching over, a shiver shot through her backside, despite the warm reception of the creature. “Vy- Vyra,” she choked out, “Nice to meet you both.”

The slight dismissiveness shown towards the vials by the woman adorned in black validated some faint suspicions the Demi-Human had towards the items she had been gathering; the idea that these were painting supplies for some reason feeling foreign to her. Now even more diligently checking the vials as to their stability, she paused as she held in her hand a vial of red liquid. In particular, her focus was set upon the reddish stain within the palm of her hand, unsure whether her blood or that of a crack in the vial. Absentmindedly, Vyra took hold in her other hand, rubbing her palm thoroughly along the vial’s exterior until a blotch of paint appeared somewhere there.

There wasn’t anything on her hand once she pulled her hand away, but she did no longer needed that to validate whether the vial were cracked or not.

The small drops of red paint that had fallen and left notable blotches along her clothes were proof enough.

Her face went red. Not as red as the paint, but still red as a wave of embarrassment rushed over her, “Uh… The red… paint I guess this is… it cracked. Sorry…”

She expected something. A verbal lashing maybe. Criticism for being so careless. An expectation that she pay some form of restitution perhaps. Strip away whatever sort of protections that came as a result of her relationship towards Alisa, and a response similar to that would have been something almost certainly hauled at Vyra. Having been so expectant that this would be such an example, to hear the tall woman speak not of indignation, but rather of reassurance towards Vyra, it admittedly caught the Demi-Human off-guard. “You’re… You’re not mad?”

It left her somewhat stunned, that as the woman described what either could have been her own profession, or at the bare minimum a deeply-invested hobby, never did it seem that she held Vyra at fault. An accident. That was all it seemed it was. It should have been that simple, but she knew that any of the many whom walked past the duo, had their role been swapped with the taller woman in black, their response would have been far different. Almost instinctively, she reached down to grab the books, stopping as her mind flashed back to the red pain now smeared upon both hands; red paint that she were only a moment away from smearing upon this woman’s possessions.

“Heh, ain’t that the truth…” she remarked, not quite with a smirk nor a sigh, but more a mixture between the two. Sadly, that seemed to be the common thing throughout. The waning months of winter meant that it was only a matter of time before the prolonged season of mercantilism returned to Hargeon. Between those returning from their hibernations and all of the other parties, be them other merchants, prospective buyers, or simply the common man, time had suddenly become a luxury that few could reasonably spare.

Same could unfortunately be said of Alisa. If ever there one thing Vyra wished would have been different, it would have been that the woman whom gifted her a home within Blue Pegasus were not as busy as the two years had shown her to be. The Demi-Human would be lying if she did not feel a bit alone as a result. Ironic that despite being in a much more fortunate situation than in the past, she found herself as isolated as before.

Perhaps that was why she found the woman in black so out of place. She had come to expect indifference and was being met with politeness.

It shouldn’t have been something that she responded to with such apprehensiveness, but found herself doing nonetheless. “No, nothing’s wrong,” she lied, some part of her ashamed at how she was responding to the apparent concern expressed. Looking to pull attention away, her gaze pulled from the woman instead onto the now-arranged possessions of the woman, “So those are your art supplies? Are you like a painter?” She looked around, many of the people walking down the same street seeming to more resemble travelers than that of the merchants she had become accustomed to seeing, “A little early to be setting up for the season isn’t it?”

As time passed, her comfort level towards the woman seemed to improve, the apprehensiveness and fear which had coiled itself around her beginning to loosen its vice with each passing moment. Though first appearances may have lent a more intimidating presence towards the woman – at least in part influenced by how much Mimi stood out relative to the lot – quickly Vyra was coming to find that what reasons she may have had to be wary, at least towards her, were for naught.

The same couldn’t quite be said of the large feline creature just besides the woman though. The assembly-line motions of people walking through the streets all seemed to part as it came into view, whether out of fear, confusion, or being otherwise overly-precautious, Vyra perhaps one of the lone few whom seemed to properly recognize the creature’s presence. Not to say that some of that may not have been out of fear; the creature – while perhaps being slightly less intimidating relative to a woman the size of Mimi – seemed to make the Demi-Human feel small. Add to it that it were capable of speech, Vyra could not help but recognize the creature, albeit with a small bit of apprehensiveness.

“Really!?” The Demi-Human found herself at a bit of a loss for words upon hearing the skills of the woman. There were little reason to believe that the woman adorned in black would have reason to lie, certainly not to impress someone as insignificant within Hargeon as Vyra ultimately was. Yet to hear all of the woman’s talents, especially not having any of her to particularly be proud of, it both fascinated Vyra while at the same time made her feel awful not having known of her before. The latter feeling was hardly new though; even local famous artists Vyra knew very little of, despite some of them having worked extensively with the Blue Pegasus Guild even recently. For a woman not particularly native to Hargeon as Mimi were, it were understandable that Vyra be unaware of them.

It did not do much to make her feel better about it.

“You made this? It’s so pretty,” Vyra said almost absentmindedly as she found herself admiring Mimi’s dress, her fingers running along the silken threads, her head filled with images of her wearing something like this, fading away as the reality set in. “I wish I could make something like this…”

A brief glance towards her hand, the smudged red paint still upon the center of her palm, snapped her back to reality, a rush of panic running through her at the possibility of her having ruined such a lovely outfit. A sigh of relief escaped through her lips as a quick glance didn’t reveal any red paint contrasting against the black and purples before her. In a moment of sheer obliviousness, Vyra recoiled her hand back as she found herself coming a mere few inches away from taking hold of the garment, despite what had just happened a moment prior.

“Then, you just come and go?” Perhaps to serve as a distraction from her near foolish action a moment ago, but also of genuine intrigue, the idea that Mimi just ventured through the world, with what she seemed to describe as a prolific career, it left Vyra for a lack of words. She was no stranger to travel, but her ventures in the past were not by choice but rather the byproducts of having been forced to take flight for safety or other forms of persecution. Between her past travels and having found a home within Blue Pegasus, going back to such a lifestyle seemed so alien. “And you enjoy that?”

As the words left her lips, she found herself wanting to take it back, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that!”

Her face went red with embarrassment. A sense of wanting to disappear washed over the girl as she found herself somewhat distracted by hypothetical imaginings of just how offended Mimi may have felt towards the remark. Only as she snapped back to reality, missing much of what Mimi may have said did she catch the invitation to join her and the large feline for a trip through the parts of Hargeon. “Me? OK!” The brief excitement quickly abided, “But, I don’t really know this part of the city. I’m not sure if I’ll really be able to show you guys where to go… I hope that’s not a problem…”

To have to confess to that fact had Vyra wishing that she had been more proactive in exploring Hargeon. It was regrettable that upon her having finally mustered the courage to do so that she have encountered Mimi, though she hoped that it would not be a problem.

Between Vyra, this woman, and her large cat-like companion, hopefully they could find their way around.

The woman’s company was nice, if not a little different than what Vyra had been used to.

Her mind raced backwards in time, struggling a well enough grasp on the amount of times that she actually had company, the total number being seldom few. Save for the rare instances that she had the rare pleasure of Alisa’s company as they ventured through a part of the city, Vyra experiencing something new, instead it would have been someone acting in Alisa’s stead. To say that it tarnished the experience and excitement factor of the venture would be an understatement. It had in part attributed to Vyra having given up on exploring more of the city.

But, with genuine company like Mimi and the large cat - the name of it at times escaping only to return after the fact - it partially made her pleased to have been as reclusive as she had been. It helped turn what otherwise would have been a more routine venture into something different. Something new.

A feeling of burning radiated through Vyra’s back, her jaw tightening as she fought back showing obvious distress. Though at first she had felt fine, at least following the initial tumbling she had endured, the more the trio walked, the more frequent it seemed that the pain occurred. Far from debilitating, an inconvenience at the most, for now at least.

Much of the time spent was a welcome change for the Demi-Human. Both Mimi and Alistair – a name that after enough time had passed Vyra had somehow managed to remember, most of the time – had proven to be enjoyable traveling partners. Even more, they helped make Vyra feel not as small as she no doubt would have felt on her own. The people, the more hardened, gritty, less willing to waste their time, they wouldn’t have had the patience nor tolerance towards either Vyra’s innocence nor her more general ignorance. This wasn’t a place for her, and they would have made her know that.

But in present company, no heed was paid towards her. Or at the minimum, not directly. The worry of having to look over her shoulder, fearful that someone may try to suddenly grab and hoist her away into one of the many alleyways, or the need to have to keep her hands at the ready, lest someone try to throw something, be it a fish or piece of wood or rock at her.

Those worries were gone. For the moment.

She had fun, despite perhaps some reluctance to admit that herself. It was not as though anything they were doing were particularly enthralling, but it did not need to be. Mimi was as much allowing Vyra to be herself and not feel quite so alone. Even the simple wandering that they had been doing, it had been uplifting.

Time continued to pass and the creeping discomfort started to strike more and more to the surface. Though it had been largely tolerable before, Vyra found herself pausing despite her present accompaniment. At first only a moment, but then a little bit longer a little more frequently. “Hey, I’m sorry to ask, but could we stop for a sec?” She asked as she leaned against a small railing, her back no longer even her primary concern, but rather her lower legs, having overcompensated in order to minimalize the strain she was feeling upon her spine. “Sorry, I guess the walking had taken more out of me than I figured for… I don’t mean to keep having to stop…”

It was hard not to feel a bit ashamed, even when there was no reason to. Vyra’s relationship with Alisa, her association with the Blue Pegasus Guild, it left such a mixed sentiment as to how the people of Hargeon had come to view her with. The perception – or at the minimum, a sizeable amount of it – had been that she was weak. Not good enough to join the guild. A street urchin who happened upon a moment of luck. Either lent enough to warrant resentment, which in turn only made her feel all the worse.

To have to take a moment out of Mimi and Alistair’s time to rest, despite them seeming to take no issue towards it, there was a part of her that felt like the critiques towards her weren’t wrong. “I’m sorry again Mimi. I didn’t mean to slow you guys down…” Neither of her travel companions seemed to take much objection to the suggestion, but it still left Vyra feeling a little down all the same. Not even so much the stopping itself, but the worry that she would have to stop again sometime later and probably sometime later too.

Her mind wandered a bit at the suggestion presented by Mimi, the same one that she had posed to Vyra earlier; the offer to ride atop the large cat, Alistair. At the time it had seemed like an interesting idea, if nothing else at least a kind proposition, but largely one that she had a hard time imaging taking up on. Not for anything negative towards Mimi or Alistair, but rather just general apprehensiveness. The prospect of her riding atop this large cat, she had a hard time wholly imaging that image, as she imagined others may have too.

With what she was feeling now, Vyra was beginning to think she’d have to reconsider that stance.

That would as much depend upon what plans Mimi and Alistair still had for themselves. Vyra was at this point simply a friendly traveling companion, as much appreciative for the company of the two as well the chance to further explore parts of Hargeon that otherwise would have been unknown. It’d be something to consider certainly, particularly if there was more travelling in their future, but that would be for then.

At the moment, a proposal stood out to her; an offer unexpectedly presented by Mimi to create some sort of outfit. It took Vyra by surprise, as while she found herself having entranced by Mimi’s dress, it seemed much like how most outfits were to her, a wishful dream. Since even before she had arrived within Hargeon, or even Fiore for that matter, some of the garments that she had seen - the exotic looks and beautiful craftsmanship that came with them – she had long ago accepted that she’d never own one of them herself.

But Mimi’s offer, to even have such an offer extended to her, knowing firsthand how talented the woman was, it left Vyra stunned.

She found herself holding back tears.

“I… I don’t know what to say…” She was elated, touched by the kind gesture, but within her mind wondering if she even had a truly inspiring design of her own. Even trying to think back to the outfits she had seen during her travels prior to Hargeon, she doubted that under the best of circumstances that she’d be able to recall them well enough for Mimi to do anything with what little Vyra could provide. Feeling the moisture beginning to descend down her cheek, she turned away, her cheeks flushing red with embarrassment, “Sorry, just… give me one sec.”

A few deep breaths and she felt she had composed herself enough to conduct herself again. Turning back to Mimi, she found it impossible to hide the glow upon her face, “That’s… That’s too kind of you Mimi. I just, I just don’t know if I have any designs of my own.” She slumped her shoulders, “I don’t have that creative mind. I don’t have that sort of talent…”

So much of the time Vyra had been stressed and found emphasized the idea of ‘now’. Payment for services was expected now at the time. Food, lodging, it did not matter quite what it was, how massive or small it may have been, nobody wanted to wait. And for Vyra, someone who never had much to her own name, that idea, the expectation that asking for anything would call for her to pay immediately then and now; it led to her both being reluctant to ask for anything and assuming that anything presented to her would be have to be decided now. So for Mimi to say that it would be something that she could think about, it was so jarring, foreign even, but wholly welcome.

“Thank you,” she said with a mix of appreciation and apprehensiveness in her voice. The initial offer of Mimi’s had left her surprised, but she couldn’t shake the idea that it was just an offer made by pity – one prompted with the hope that Vyra would not be able to come up with anything, thus erasing the offer. To know that at some point she would perhaps be able to present an idea to the woman, it meant a lot to Vyra, perhaps more than what Mimi may have realized.

“You don’t have to worry,” the Demi-Human spoke, a jump in her voice, a feeling of revitalization having rushed through her, “I wouldn’t get rid of it. It’s a gift! Who would throw away a gift!?” At times, her innocence was something to admire. At others, it simply spoke to the general naivety she had to the world. An industry like fashion, one in which those of privilege and fortune could simply go from garment to garment, dispassionately discarding them as an outdated token, it was a trend all too common. One that ate away at some designers, who poured their hearts and souls into their outfits, only to see them being discarded away. She neither knew this, nor whether Mimi had endured that experience herself.

Before she even found herself able to answer whether she felt alright, the innocent banter between the large cat filled the air, causing Vyra to blush slightly. The manner by which the two interacted with one another, it seemed more akin to that of longtime companions than that of just a woman and a large cat that it may have first seemed to be. It was a relationship that she was a bit envious of, hopeful to one day have one like it herself. Gingerly, she pushed herself off the post that she had been leaning upon, gently pushing off the balls of her feet, swiveling around her ankle, expecting some level of irritation or pain, but finding herself smiling as she encountered neither. “I think I’m OK. Foot doesn’t hurt right now.” A few more steps taken to make sure it wasn’t just a false sense of relief, “I think I should be OK to keep going.”

Still a lamb lost among wolves, Vyra’s movements were completely tied to that of Mimi and Alistair, wherever they may have been looking to go next, she would find herself following. And barring any sort of circumstance that would have led to her having to run away quickly, Vyra was hopeful that her leg would not cause further problems. So long as she took it slow and walked at a reasonable pace, there should have been no concern as to further straining herself.

The trip though seemed to come secondary at points, especially when Mimi spoke, her insight being a rare luxury, a look into a world that she otherwise had been completely kept out of previously. It was interesting, her mind imaging Mimi’s growth as an artist, how it must have been like to have gone from whatever novice level she may have started from, the pitfalls and challenges that came with it. And in a way, it was encouraging too, leaving Vyra with hope that maybe she could do something like that. Maybe.

“Was it hard? To get to this point?” She probably already knew the answer, but she was curious now. The way she described it, there was a story to be told, and perhaps… Perhaps there was something that Vyra could take away from Mimi’s story.

Though she should not have been surprised, Vyra could not help but feel disappointed for Mimi. Being betrayed by others, that was hardly a new thing for the Demi-Human; sadly enough it most often coming from those whom she built some level of trust with, seldom few exceptions notwithstanding. But that were something she figure a person like her would be forced to endure, not someone like Mimi. To hear people whom this woman had entrusted with something as lovingly crafted as an outfit like that of what she was wearing, or even that of a design that they had instead requested, to then betray her by selling them off later… Vyra could not have imagined how it must have felt once, let alone multiple times.

“I’m sorry… That… Why would they do that?” Obvious enough of a reasoning behind why. Money. The world ran on it. She had experienced what it was like to be without it, and the reversal of her fortunes with Blue Pegasus were as much a reflection of the wealth possessed by the guild. But even she – for as ignorantly innocent as she may have been – knew that that situation was such a far cry for most people.

Some people may have been left with no choice. But perhaps some people were just cruel.

Though she hoped that Mimi did not look at her with the level of suspicion and doubt that those interactions had left her feeling, a part of Vyra would have understood.

She could not help but perk up hearing that among those whom Mimi still trusted, they seemed to share a mutual friend. “Really? Alisa has an outfit of yours?” Vyra could not help but allow her mind to wander a bit, figuring as to what exactly she would have gotten. One of Mimi’s designs? Her own? What sort of style would she have gone for? That would be something to ask Alisa perhaps the next time she saw her; perhaps even could provide some inspiration for Vyra, if nothing else. “Well, if it’s any comfort, I wouldn’t sell whatever you make me,” she said, casting a hopefully reassuring smile upon her face. Sadly, impossible to say just how many times the tall woman had heard that before, only to be heartbroken again.

A faint horn in the distance temporarily grabbed Vyra’s attention as she looked out towards the sea; ships announcing their arrival were hardly a new thing, but something about it still captivated the Demi-Human. One of the few bits of joy hailing from her days growing up. But hearing Mimi describe the beginnings of her artistic flourish, she couldn’t help but be a little surprised by the tale. Vyra had far from a pleasurable childhood if one were to even describe it as such, and that time had greatly affected her.

No matter the person, no matter the experience, she had convinced herself that anything would have been better than what she survived through. What Mimi was describing didn’t seem all that different though. If anything, Vyra had been fortunate that she never had any sort of artistic talent, fortunate to never be met with the sort of dismissiveness that Mimi had received. And by those who raised her no less! “That’s awful,” Vyra lamented. She doubted she would have had the resolve to continue at it had she been in that situation. Even then, she was hardly confident that she’d have talent to prove them wrong.

As she listened, a thought occurred to her. “Those notebooks, the ones from earlier, do those have your art there?” To say she was curious would be an understatement. Her mind raced with just what kind of talent Mimi had, how it may have changed over the years, what it started out as versus what it eventually became. “Could… could I see it? If that’s OK, of course.”

Mimi’s response, the casualness of the circumstances, it was hard to leave Vyra feeling a bit taken aback, if for no other reason than the perceived strangeness that she took of it. As an artist, it was likely something that should have been expected that artwork, whether print, a sculpture, dress, whatever so sort of medium that it were, that some pieces would come to find subsequent owners beyond the initial. That was almost an inevitability really. But the manner in which the tall woman rationalized the possibility that individuals had been gifted by her personally to then part ways with them, there was a part of Vyra that felt angry for her.

Perhaps more than anything, her envisioning herself within Mimi’s place, knowing that something like that, there was a level of preciousness to that. She had seldom few friends; her time around Blue Pegasus even leaving her wondering whether or not she had really made any friends having since arriving in Hargeon, joining up with the guild. But she knew that if she were in Mimi’s place, the idea that someone could have just easily detached themselves from a work that she had made out of care, certainly out of respect… She already had enough reasons to not trust people. She dreaded having to have found another.

The thought stuck with her, and though Vyra was able to take a bit of reassurance, projecting a bit of herself upon Mimi’s situation, she found herself hoping the same thing. Surely, most of the work that Mimi had done were still in the possession of those gifted to them. “Heh, that sounds like her,” she mused. Alisa, in the times that she and Vyra had spent together, often took to indulging to the more extreme. Not to suggest excess, but certainly the most premier option when presented with it. Applying that philosophy towards not only acquiring, but also compensating towards Mimi’s work, it was very easy to believe that. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride because of it.

But her focus foremost lay within the notebooks whose content Vyra could not help but wonder towards. Designs? Inspired schematics developed by a creative mind leagues ahead of what Vyra could have appreciated? Sketches? Not quite full concepts, but rather a taste, a brief insight to what may have been to come? Completed works? Full on ideas, fleshed out, with the detail and attention that would come of from that of an artist? The same works that would stand to produce a fortune, perhaps lead to something even greater.

Thus, she could not contain the smile that enveloped around her face as the tall gothic woman permitted the Demi-Human access towards them. Excited yet also nervous not only towards the contents within the books themselves, but also at the possibility of appearing too eager, Vyra reached with an awkward level of trepidation. Pulling out one of the books, a rather thick notebook, the thick creases in the leather spine indicative of it being opened and closed to the point of far beyond the book’s intended lifespan.

Page upon page upon page, stuffed within the hardened covers, the dimensions itself barely enough to contain it all. Vyra looked on in utter enthrallment, her eyes examining everything, every detail, each page as much of a story of its own as it was a piece to an even greater one. The window into a truly creative mind. Complete sketches, every detail one could have hoped to capture within the realms of translating art upon the page etched in. Design concepts, exhaustive in every detail, from dimensions to sizes to threads to color palettes, nothing left to fate, everything accounted for.

“They’re… they’re beautiful,” Vyra said, utterly left for a lack of words. She expected to be impressed, but this was something else entirely. Not even just the artwork within the journal, which was remarkable enough by its own right, but also how varied even similar sketches seemed to be. Even looking simply at two images that were clearly drawn out scenes, perhaps ones that Mimi happened to watch transpire and choose to put to paper, they were so utterly different in their presentation. One was prepared, as though an image that had been expected to be produced, whilst the other seemed more alive, more natural. People captured in poses and stances that would have been uncharacteristic to have been staged.

Looking up, the Demi-Human could not help but find herself viewing the woman differently. It was with a quality that seemed hard to explain entirely, but there was something there within her eyes. Envy? Fascination? Amazement? It was hard to quite put the word towards it, but having barely scanned through one of the books, Vyra realized that the talent the woman possessed before her was far greater than what she had first imagined. It only made the girl think back to the remarks Mimi had made earlier, how casually she had approached the early pitfalls, the rejections, the failures, to see it materialize into the sort of talent that could produce what were in the book within her hands, it was beyond remarkable.

“Mimi, these are incredible! I mean, these are just… It’s like you completely captured everything… It’s amazing…”

She had been so fixated upon the sketches in Mimi’s notebooks that for a time, it seemed as though the world around her were gone, including Mimi. Her remark regarding Alisa seemed to be among the first things that managed to pull the Demi-Human out of her entranced state of mind and back to the reality around them. For the briefest moment, the tall woman’s remark about Alisa seemed curious; for someone as regarded within Hargeon as either Alisa or the Blue Pegasus guild were, to suggest that more people didn’t know her seemed unlikely.

It shortly dawned on Vyra quite what Mimi had meant. It perhaps should have been expected that considering the reputation that would come of it, many – merchants, nobles, wishful socialites alike – would claim to be close to Alisa. But few, if any, of those whom boasted of their supposed friendship doubtfully actually knew her to the extent to which Vyra had. Though she certainly hated the phrase, there was something to be said about being referred to as Alisa’s pet, indicating at least some level of relationship there. “Alisa,” Vyra paused for a moment, reluctant to go too much into detail as to her report with the Blue Pegasus guild master. In this sense, less was more, “she helped me when I needed someone the most, so yeah…”

The circumstances of her past were a topic that she held close. Even despite her close familiarity with the Blue Pegasus guild, seldom few knew of the exact specifics to Vyra, and it was deliberately kept that way, all in the interest of protecting the girl. Alisa was protective of her, and vice versa. Such, the remarks by Mimi, albeit without malice tied towards them, it could not help but draw a slight ire out of the Demi-Human, who coldly looked to the woman, “Not that I’ve seen.”

She looked back to the notebooks, hoping to erase Mimi’s remarks instead with the works within them. Though she may have taken exception to what Mimi said towards Alisa, even Vyra had to admit that she could see exactly the tall woman meant by showing joy. On almost every page in which she had sketched out people, it seemed that every person, or at the minimal the focus of the sketch, seemed to convey a look of happiness. A look of joy. At first, she had suspected that maybe it was just a pattern that she wanted to see, but scanning through the notebook, carefully examining each face her eyes happen to glance over, with each there it were, more faces exuding joy.

“See the joy,” she muttered under her breath, attention having been all but devoid from either Mimi, Alistair, or the world around them for a moment anyways. After a short moment, a proposal that seemed to come out of the blue from the tall woman brought Vyra back again to the current world. “That I would consider keeping?” A weak glance down back onto the image sprawled out before her shielded the indecisiveness within her face. There were no shortage of pictures within even just this notebook that Vyra found enthralling, but something about taking one of them, any of them more appropriately, felt wrong.

“Mimi,” she lifted her head up with a smile, looking upon the woman as she closed the notebook within her lap. “I can’t accept one of these. They are lovely, but… They’re yours. For me to take one of them, it wouldn’t be right.” Though she did feel that, there was something else, an idea that had begun to already float within the back of her mind. One that originated amidst their pleasant exchange over notebooks of captured art, yet one that Vyra was unsure of for herself.

A faintest collection of wind blew through the alley, the suddenness of it against the calm backdrop that had been present being one that drew the attention of seemingly everyone. The Demi-Human was no exception, feeling the wind push the long blue locks of hair first, recognizing the strength of it second. Quickly enough, that the contents of the notebook sprawled out within her lap - images, sketches, and assorted other partial ideas weakly maintained – were preserved as she hastily slammed the book shut. Her fingers lined against the edge of the notebook, the clumped edges of misaligned papers leaving her with an almost lively feeling. Lively, yet precarious, as the fear of one of Mimi’s works being lost to the wind was all too present within her mind.

The brief back and forth between Mimi and her large feline companion Alistair was a nice distraction as Vyra awaited the wind to finally cease. Listening close, she gathered that the relationship between the tall woman and Alisa was perhaps deeper than what was let on, much in part like how her situation was. Another gust filled the air as Mimi spoke, a slip of the tongue term being lost to the sound of life in the street reacting strongly. A crate fell off of a small stack, shattering as it hit the cobblestone, sending oranges rolling out in all directions. A woman lost her hat, stolen by the wind with only her cries to denote the theft.

Although curious as to just what Alistair meant, what Mimi had said, Vyra figured not to pry. If she were unwilling to dwell deeper into quite what the Blue Pegasus guild master meant to her, why should Vyra have expected Mimi to?

The wind calmed and Mimi’s words replaced the weather’s faint wailing. A smile emerged the Demi-Human’s face as she listened, the tall woman’s motivation being something inspiring. A dream that would resonate with far more people than perhaps even she could have imagined. “That… That’s a great task…” She could almost feel her face become flush with embarrassment. A great goal, a horrid way to express admiration to something she thought was genuinely beautiful. “I mean, I like that.”

The redness in her face become more apparent; Her second attempt proving to be as awkward as her first. A feeling loosely resembling that of dejection came upon her face as her gaze dropped slightly from Mimi and onto the notebook still in her hands. A brief back and forth between the tall woman and the feline caused her to perk up, particularly the manner of what was discussed. Though Mimi had made a point of saying that her notebooks, not unlike the one already in Vyra’s lap, were the ones that were shown, she had said nothing of any special picture. Special in the sense of being something for limited eyes. Already Vyra had seen plenty to see the limitations upon Mimi’s talents were hardly there; that something would be kept separate from truly remarkable works could have meant plenty of things towards it.

Having been expecting Mimi to produce an image from some highly secured crate, like anyone would a precious memento, the Demi-Human found herself a little surprised that to see the woman walking towards her. Even more, as the gothic woman began to look through the aforementioned notebook, Vyra could not believe that the picture, as important towards not only Mimi, but also Alistair, was there in plain sight and she did not realize, it truly did speak to the pure depths at which her talent stemmed.

And to the level of trust with which she had that neither people nor nature nor acts of unexpected disaster stood to ruin them.

It took a few moments, Vyra remaining still as she watched the pages of the notebook once again opened upon her lap be flipped by page by page by page. With each, it gave Vyra the briefest of moments to appreciate the work, in some cases things that she had not seen, in some pictures that resembled works that she had seen before, whether earlier pages of the notebook or elsewhere in the world. Finally though, it seemed Mimi had found what she was looking for, a smile appearing upon her face as she gazed down onto the image. Vyra stopped short of looking, first focusing upon the woman’s face, looking deeply into it, absorbing the emotion captured upon it.

To see it, it made the her first glance at the picture all the more impactful.

Her eyes simply lay there, glancing upon the image, the story told made clear within the details on the page. It was beautiful, if not sorrowful. Even had Mimi not said anything, the image clearly enough showed two of them, a large cat that she suspected being Alistair, the other a woman whom Vyra could not be sure of. She wanted to believe it were Mimi, though it was impossible to say with any bit of certainty. Possibly, depending on how long ago this picture had been done. But even there, it was impossible to say. Even the paper was deceptive, it not having the same amount of wear and tear that some of the other pages within the notebook had, but it also seemed less exposed, as though not having been seen as often, not having been handled as often by people. Perhaps it had been deliberate that it was more in the back of the crowded notebook; less chances of there being problems.

The sadness within the image were not lost within the questions and wonder that came with understanding beyond the image. Her eyes never truly parting from it, the greater appreciation for detail that existed, the more attention was drawn to points of heartbreak, of raw emotion that were left upon the page. “This, this was your first meeting?” Thinking more about it, perhaps more reasonable to believe that the woman within the image were not actually Mimi as she first suspected it to be. Her eyes focused onto a part that was particularly detailed, “The woman, the name written upon the gravestone, did you know her?” Curiousness drove her, led her to ask, despite knowing the chance that it bring forth poor memories towards either her or Alistair. But Vyra wanted to know, how the pair had gone from what the picture depicted to now.

Looking at the picture of Alistair and an reminder of a time once long ago, Vyra could not help but wonder as to what an image of hers would be like. A younger Vyra, dirtied by the grime that came with the streets, a younger girl, innocent to the innate cruelty of the world, huddled amongst refuse and discarded containers, little more than an old sheet wrapped around for warmth? Or that of the same child, having snuck within a tavern during an unforgiving summer, entranced by the warmth and the fake feeling of belonging, only to rest asleep upon the wooden floorboards? Growing up, she had always assumed that her life was rough, that the world had been unfair to her. Regardless of how true that may have been, seeing the picture had shown her a perspective that she had not previously considered.

That people other than her had suffered too.

It seldom seemed that way from her perspective. Often, her struggling to find the most meager means of survival, it seemed everyone was so much better off, unburdened by the difficulties that the world had given her. But, like Alistair within this picture, perhaps they were simply hurting in other ways. Vyra did not want to speculate, to assume anything as far as the large feline creature and the circumstances surrounding how it and Mimi ended up together now. That story was their own, in much a way that how she and Alisa came to know each other were their own too.

Listening as Mimi spoke, the Demi-Human could not help but keep her eyes glued upon the picture. It was evident, if even just looking at it from a side by side comparison, this may have been a different time, the look of it versus some of the other images showed that whilst certainly of the same type of drawing style, Mimi’s natural ability, the more fine details, had only seemed to improve. Thinking to the notion of any sort of artist honing their skills over time, it did leave Vyra wondering how long ago this was, in the back of her head curious as to the nature of this event as it was expressed upon the page, but more though curious to where in Mimi’s growth as an artist was this. Was it early on? Towards the end?

It was apparent something that she cherished, not just as that of a picture, but Vyra had a feeling that if it were just another photo, it may not have been something that Mimi singled out. A memento to Alistair? A reminder of the woman, either the woman within the picture or even the one whose name was inscribed upon the tombstone? Though she wanted to ask, she felt awkward doing so; though she could have considered herself friendly towards Mimi and Alistair, it was not something she felt terribly comfortable inquiring into something as personal as that.

Alistair explained it enough, and as he spoke, the pieces began to make more sense within the Demi-Human’s mind. There was a duality to the picture. It as much stood as a reflection of Mimi’s growth as an artist, but also something precious to Alistair as well. But even with that information, it was still a snapshot into a world that Vyra did not know, “I… I don’t know. I just don’t know what would be appropriate to ask…”

She felt small. Here were Alistair and Mimi, both of whom had been willing to open themselves up to the Demi-Human, likely harkening back to painful memories that they endured through once already. And yet, Vyra seemed to hardly appreciate it, at least on the surface. But how, she wondered, what would have been the appropriate response to such a moment of vulnerability? To poke and prod through every little thing that the two would be willing to devolve? To show forth her own vulnerability?

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she looked out to the cat with weak eyes, almost a feeling of not being comfortable within her own skin crawling throughout her. Like before, the sense of regret flooded through her; if only she had been consciousness to say something more appropriate. Typical Vyra…