Ilrine guides Redmane back through the temple, past the hall of memories and out to where the others still gather. Well, most of the others still gather, anyway. The wolves are still here .. but Thomas isn't. It's not hard to guess where he is, though since the wolves are all circling one of the pillars in the room.
Sure enough, Thomas has somehow managed to climb the pillar and is hanging upside down from one of the statues using only his feet. He also blows a raspberry at the wolves, then says, "Nyeh, I told you I was uncatchable. Opposable thumbs and all that!" He even wiggles his thumbs at them.
The expression on the gathered lupines is, well .. a cross between confused and terribly amused by the antics. There's surely no feel of danger in the room, Thomas was probably just causing trouble as usual.
"Does he normally climb everything?" Ilrine asks as she looks up at the upside down male. "And how did you get up there?" she shouts at him.
"Magic! I have mysterious powers," Thomas claims. "Ancient secrets that cannot be revealed."
"He has sweaty palms that help him stick to things, I suspect," Redmane notes with amusement. To Tom she calls, "Well, how do you expect to get down from there?"
"Easy! What, you don't think I can?" Thomas challenges.
"You're just going to drop down on top of the wolves, aren't you?" Redmane asks. "That's why you got them to all cluster underneath I bet!"
"Pft, you have no imagination," Thomas retorts. He pulls his belt off and whips it around the pillar. Once he has a grip on the other end, he pushes off with his feet, flips over and presses his feet hard against the pillar. With the belt pulled taut, Thomas slowly slides down the marble structure.
"They won't steal his pants will they?" Redmane quietly asides to Ilrine, who would know her.. shrine wolves?.. best.
The wolves in question merely move back and let Thomas slide all the way to the floor. Smirking like the proverbial cat who ate the canary, Thomas slips his belt back on.
"Of course not. We are mostly civilized here," Ilrine claims.
"Are you going to let them chase you through the woods again?" Redmane asks Thomas, grinning. "I'm sure your tricks will seem fresh after so long!"
"Of course not. I don't want show off just yet," Thomas says rather matter-of-factly. "And I see you're back from whatever illicit adventures you were having with our host..."
"It was... girl stuff," Redmane claims. "We should get some of the local clothing too, don't you think?"
Thomas groans. "Great, you're here for an hour and you're already acting like a girl. Clothing shopping? Ugh!" Thomas laments.
"Don't you want to fit in better?" Redmane asks, giving her head a little tilt to the side. "How many outfits do you have that would work with two completely different body types, after all. They'd be perfect souvenirs."
"You two are ... ridiculous," Ilrine seems to decide. "You have all day to explore our city before the dedication this evening. Just explain who you are and the shops will give you whatever you desire. Within reason, of course. We cannot give away everything."
"Me?" Thomas says and puts his right hand on his chest, "I'm too amazing to fit in!"
"Wow, that's generous," Redmane says, and gives the priestess a bow. "Thank you very much. We won't abuse it."
"Drat, now I don't have an excuse to avoid shopping," Thomas grumbles, "Curse you, free stuff!"
"It's only fair, Thomas," Redmane chides. "I have to be able to compete with Ilrine and the others that will catch your eye."
"I didn't know there was a competition," Thomas notes, "But that isn't a bad idea. Hm..."
Taking Thomas' hand, Redmane says, "Let's go, before you find something else to climb."
"I was just checking to see if they fixed the roof," Thomas claims as they head towards the exit, much to the amusement of the gathered wolves. Alas, Redmane doesn't escape completely unscathed as when they pass through the doorway, Redmane is 'greeted' in a very typical canid fashion. Namely, one of the wolves sniffs her butt.
"Dear me, I think the Years have driven them both crazy," Ilrine says as her voice fades behind them.
"Yeep!" Redmane levitates a few inches off of the ground, then makes a swatting motion behind her.
"They just want to get to the bottom of things," Thomas quips.
"It's not like we have the same glands down there that wolves do," Redmane grumbles. "Still, probably better from behind than from the front.."
"Are you sure you don't? You are some sort of half monster thing," Thomas teases. And soon enough the pair are walking outside of the cathedral to face a new day ... and an awakening city.
The pair are greeted with the stares of the waking citizens. None of them actually seem to want to approach them, though ... it's more that they want to point and whisper amongst themselves. Only snippets of conversations can be caught, though and all of them seem to center around speculation on who they are ... and if they are real.
Thankfully, though they aren't out on the streets long. Finding one of the clothiers turns out to be relatively simple; they do seem to use the common spool and thread motif on signs to indicate their line of business. Through the door they go and a merry little bell jingles.
"See, if we had local clothing, we wouldn't stand out so much," says the tall woman with flaming read hair and no wolfish facial features.
Once inside, Redmane looks around for some sort of assistance. "Hello?" she calls, hoping it's not too early.
MOVE RED'S LINE AFTER VISTA
"Hello?" someone echo's from the back room, "We just opened! First customers of the day; that's lucky you know." In short order, an almost mousy looking male walks out from the back room and pushes his glasses up on his nose. "Hey ... you're not townsfolk, are you?"
"We're visiting friends," Redmane says. "But would like to have some local dress, if possible." She also points to a bandana, whispering to Thomas, "You could wear that. You'd be really popular."
"It's silly," Thomas claims, "And I'm not going around naked, thank you."
"Oh! Well, I'm sure we have something you can use," The shopkeeper claims. "I'm Weresachi and we have the most elegant fashion in town, suitable for the highest Lord and Lady of the land. And since you, my most handsome Lord and Lady, are not shifters, I can offer a discount since it will not need enchantments."
"Oh, we'd want the enchantments," Redmane says. "Uh.. just in case."
"But they are most expensive!" Weresachi says as he wrings his hands, "And completely useless to those without the gift. I do not desire to take your coin without providing value."
"Well, I am a Countess," Redmane admits. "And I'd like to at least try the enchanted stuff."
"Besides, we were told it would be free," Thomas notes, "This is the Countess Redmane. I'm Lord Thomas, but I prefer to just be called Thomas."
"Well, uh, free within reason," Redmane notes.
"Oh! Of course. The Cathedral said they would cover the costs of apparel for the guests of honor," Weresachi says as realization reaches him. "Do you have any particular style of clothing you desire? Do you wish to be more ... feral and free, or refined and demure?"
"Well.. I suppose I'd have to look," Redmane notes, glancing at Thomas to see if he makes a crack about 'refined and demure'.
"Demure? Hah," Thomas mutters.
"Kind sir, we only need reasonable attire," Thomas says and bows, "I can not in good conscious ask the impossible of you; my friend cannot manage demure..."
With a bit of a growl, Redmane asks, "I'd like to see the 'feral and free' fashion first I suppose."
"That should be on the right, then. Feel free to browse. Anything you like can be tailored to fit," Weresachi states. "I will be at your call, good Lord and Lady," he adds as he goes to sort a small shelf of cloth.
Turning to the right, Redmane looks over what's available. "Should we match?" she half-teases Thomas.
"My hair isn't red," Thomas points out with a grin.
"I meant outfits," Redmane replies, giving Thomas a poke in the arm. "Otherwise I'm going to look for something green."
The feral clothing ... well, it looks, a lot like how Thomas dresses when he's 'on the road', as it turns out. Sturdy and the colors tend towards earthen tones, browns, greens, and blues. There are assorted knee-length dresses, as well as travel pants and lace-front shirts to go with it. It all looks loose-fitting to a degree; airy and comfortable. Some are even trimmed in silvery fur along the collars.
"That isn't feral," Thomas complains, "Feral is raw animal skins, bare feet, and a club."
Redmane rolls her eyes. "Well, these are pretty nice actually," she notes. "I was expecting something a lot more revealing after seeing Ilrine's outfit."
"Second rack," Weresachi calls out to Redmane.
"Hmmm," Redmane goes, and figures a peek can't hurt. She heads to the second rack. "Any suggestions, Thomas? What do you think I should wear?"
"I'm not sure I can answer that safely," Thomas claims.
"What's that mean?" Redmane asks, giving Thomas a look. "You're going to suggest a potato sack or something?"
The second rack is definitely ... uh, revealing, yes. The shirts are less a full shirt and more some sort of neck-collar with two front straps that go down then wrap around to help hold certain feminine aspects in place. The skirts are more like shorts ... and they're all covered in a very short silvery fur. Some even have tails hanging off the back.
"Because, um, dead men tell no tails?" Thomas claims as he grins widely in reply.
"Tails?" Redmane has to ask herself quietly. It actually takes her a moment to realize the collar-and-strap affairs are actually tops.
"Have you seen anything you'd want to wear yet?" the woman asks, drifting back to the first rack.
And just past those Redmane spots clothing that would look right at home on a wood nymph. In other words, very little cloth with very bright colors.
"I'm not sure," Thomas admits as he stares at the racks. "I'm terrible at selecting clothing. I just wear what has the lest ... smell to it. Once it can walk home on its own I wash it."
"Well, at least these are enchanted," Redmane notes, picking out a green tunic and skirt.. and then going for a slightly longer skirt since they don't come with magic underpants. "They can survive being worn by wolves after all."
"Fairly ordinary and basic, but yes they would work," Thomas says with a nod.
"Although I suppose that means they could hold more stinks," she mutters to herself.
Weresachi heads over. "Having difficulty deciding? Do you need any advice?" he asks.
After finding a better skirt with silver fur-trim to match the top, Redmane asks the tailor, "What will these look like transformed?"
"Ah, the enchantment is such that it tries to blend with the fur of its wearer. Where there are start differences there will be a graceful streak of color. The fur you see along the top trim will follow hips and accentuate the haunches of its wearer," Weresachi explains.
"Wow, that's impressive," Redmane admits, smiling at the clothes now. "Do they do anything in were-form, or just adjust to fit?"
"They meld into the body when fully changed. Those who prefer the partial forms ... it draws in and wears as if it were loose skin. Modesty is preserved and movement liberated. It also allows for the extension of the spine into the tail," Weresachi notes.
"Is there someplace private I can try these on?" Redmane asks next.
"Of course. All the way back. There's a small room with a draw curtain," Weresachi says and points, "You cannot miss it, Milady."
Thomas has meanwhile been slowly inching towards the door.
"And please help my friend here find something too," Redmane notes, "before he can escape."
With that, the woman heads for the small changing room.
"I hate you," Thomas grumbles.
"Ah, difficulty in finding attire. The common male dilemma," Weresachi says and begins rubbing his hands together. "You, I understand are a child of the woodland. So ... you will need some pants. Combine that with a nice, yet sturdy, shirt that has a lace up front ... and never lace it more than half way! Then over that we put a thigh length coat. It's all loose and flowing, yet has the air of 'I am a swashbuckling adventurer! Where I go, chaos reigns!'"
"This guy has been reading too many stories," Thomas thinks.
Once she draws the curtain, Redmane goes about changing.. in more ways than one. After she's sure of the fit, she closes her eyes and thinks back - way back - to what it was like to be a wolf. Or, for starters, a were-wolf. Chaos reigns, she thinks. How appropriate for Thomas!
Well, it seems changing isn't as easy as she would like. It doesn't hurt ... but at the same time not much happens except for a downy coat of reddish fur sprouting up all over her body. And sadly ... it looks like she even has a silly goatee.
"This.. won't do," she grumbles, and tries again. Maybe it's just harder because she hasn't had breakfast yet..
"Good sir, I don't think that's quite ... "Redmane hears Thomas begin ... only to hear him cut off by Weresachi saying, "Nonsense! You're a legend, many a lass have swooned over your daring tales. You must dress the part."
Redmane feels ... strange. Her body feels all squirmy as things begin to shift around a bit. Fingers curl some, leaving her with hands that work, but they do tend to look a but 'talon-y'. She goes up one her toes as leg muscles re-align and with that eight shift she finds herself needing to lean forward just a bit to change her center of gravity. Behind her ... well, the feeling is like someone is pulling on her spine and stretching it out as her new appendage makes itself very known. The most disturbing has to be the face, her jaw stretches outward and she feels every bit of it (though none is painful), down to the lengthening tongue and growing teeth, to the thinning lips, the cleft of the upper one, and the thickening of her the tissue that makes up her nose. Of course the assault of scents soon follow, from Thomas' earthy scent, to the slightly musky scent of Weresachi. And true to his word, the clothing she chose shifted some with her. The skirt has shortened and drawn in. Her tunic as we
Her tunic as well has drawn in, becoming almost a 'halter' top, leaving her very furry midriff exposed. And the last bit of her to change is her fiery mane of red hair ... that becomes a true mane, flowing from the top of her head and wrapping around her neck to partway down her chest. If nothing, it does hide cleavage.
After working her jaw a bit to make sure she can talk without biting her own tongue off, Redmane primps a little in the mirror (and yes, that includes fluffing up her chest mane a bit), and then pulls aside the curtain to get an opinion. "Hey, what do you think, Thomas?" she growls.
Thomas is in the middle of a conversation with Weresachi ... and he stops with his jaw hanging open. "Ah, er," he stammers, "I guess that wolf did more than just sniff your butt; he bit it! Ahearn isn't going to be happy, you'll give him fleas!" That last bit sounded like he was reaching for some way to not sound surprised. The tone didn't quite make it, though.
"This is what that morning ceremony is about, you know," Redmane tells Thomas. "The burst of light and all. You can do it too.. that's why I thought we should get some shifter-shorts."
"Oh ... of course! I knew that!" Thomas claims and tugs on the collar of his travel-coat. "I was just testing you."
"Riiiiight," Redmane says. "Now.. do I stand out for not being all silver?"
"Oh, I'm sure, just like the runt of the litter ... " Thomas begins to say, right up to when Weresachi actually elbows him in the ribs.
"A gentleman would know when a lady is trying to catch his eye," Weresachi comments.
"Hey, I'm still bigger than you in this form, even with the hunch," Redmane notes with a growl.
"She knows I'm just teasing," Thomas argues. He does loot to Redmane, though, and ask, "Right?"
Redmane sniffs. "Hmmm, it does smell that way, so I'll forgive you."
"So, I suppose you expect me to join you in fleadom?" Thomas asks.
"Oh, like you'll be able to resist?" Redmane replies with a toothy grin. "We haven't had breakfast yet, and I don't think you ever tried the half-way form."
"Yeah, I did briefly. I rode the beast into the temple in that form," Thomas points out.
"But you never got to eat with it, did you?" Redmane asks.
Weresachi hands over a collection of clothing to Thomas. "Go, join your lady and enjoy all the delights of the form. Mating by moonlight is an experience, just be sure to have plenty of time," he says.
"No, I didn't eat like ... " Thomas says then blinks. "Er, I'm not sure we'll do that," he tells Weresachi, "We're just friends." And before he's told to do something else, he now darts towards the changing room.
"Thomas would never get into a situation where he was stuck for an hour," Redmane assures the shopkeeper.
"Ah, but it is an enjoyable hour," the shopkeeper notes.
"I'll.. take your word for it," Redmane replies, but takes it as a good sign. The omegas never got to do that last time, and Weresachi would certainly have been considered an omega back then.
Quite a bit of time passes for Thomas. So much that at one point Redmane does have to wonder if he found a secret door to slip out the back. Before she feels compelled to go check, he finally steps through. Well, a half-form wolf does anyway. He bears a coat of stark contrasts. His mane is dark as coal dust ... hut his hands and stomach are a silvery-white. He too has to lean forward a bit to balance as he's now effectively walking on his toes. His clothing looks .. well, his shirt has all but vanished, leaving his chest ruff and stomach completely exposed. Pants have become light shorts. The only clothing that is obviously visible is the dark gray travel coat he wears. Before Redmane has to ask, she learns it is definitely Thomas as he reaches up and tugs his coat collar. "Arroo," he says and even holds his head slightly up and tilted to the side.
"Wow, you actually look respectable like that, Thomas!" Redmane gushes. "And you aren't slouching. Well, you can't tell that you're slouching anyway. You even look a little cleaner somehow. And bare-chested. And shiny!"
"Bah, you sound like you prefer me like this," Thomas all but growls.
"Moonlight tryst," Weresachi remarks to Redmane, then heads to the counter to tidy up.
"You seem cuddlier and have an air of.. oh.. obedience?" Redmane teases.
"I'm going to put a kink in your tail," Thomas threatens, "Do you see a collar around my neck?"
"Rack three!" Weresachi calls out.
"Hush, you!" Thomas barks.
Redmane laughs, which sounds very different as a werewolf. "C'mon, let's take our old clothes back to the inn and get some breakfast. I wonder what Einsam will think? I'm sure he'll find a reason to be upset about it all."
Thomas starts towards the counter and the skopkeeper waves them off. "It is already paid for. You two did much for us in the past, it is the least we could do," Weresachi reminds them.
With a gasp, Redmane asks, "Where you going to try and pay for both outfits, Thomas?"
"Ah, thank you," Thomas says as he changes course. "And yes, I was. I have money too, you know. I am titled." He tells Redmane as he passes rack three. The wolf even reaches out and grabs something. By the time he gets to Redmane, he's wearing a leather collar, complete with spikes. "Grr," he teases.
"Eeeeeheeeheee!" Redmane giggles, and goes to collect her neatly folded clothing. "If anyone asks, we'll be sure to mention where we got our new clothes, Mr. Weresachi."
Weresachi waves. "Enjoy your stay, Milord, Milady. Do be sure to go on at least one pack hunt. We would be honored for you to be part of our family, though it will be fleeting," he says.
"We'll probably get invited to one," Redmane notes. "Maybe my new squire can take us."
"Oh? Who is that?" Weresachi asks. Thomas is paused at the door, waiting.
"A local lad named Einsam," Redmane replies, watching (and smelling) for Weresachi's reaction.
"Ah ... him," Weresachi remarks in a rather neutral tone. His scent, well ... seems to imply he's 'unsure' about Einsam being anyone's squire. "I will warn you, though you may already know, is that he does not come from the best family."
"His ancestry is impeccable," Redmane notes. "His line sired by a hero of Mirari who saved the people of December."
"Mm, forgive me, but I do not know how to put this delicately. The stories state he is the bastard descendant of a family abandoned by a knight of Mirari," Weresachi says and actually does sound apologetic about it.
"The stories are wrong," Redmane states bluntly. "Sir Bravil did not abandon his family."
"The knight in question was Sir Bravil of December," Thomas says with an unusual tone of finality, as if he should not be questioned on the point. "Who was a friend of mine and of the Countess Redmane. He died defending these lands, and that includes your home. It was not abandonment. He was one of the most loyal knights I ever knew and I counted him as a close friend. I was there when he died; I know how he died. If nothing else, that is one story we will correct before we leave."
The scent change is ... well interesting. Redmane now knows quite what a 'submit' scent smells like. Weresachi says a bit timidly, "Ah, I see. I apologize for my words, Milord, Milady. I did not know."
"It'll be made clearer tonight, I think," Redmane notes, hoping that the submission also indicates acceptance of what was just said.
"Come, time for breakfast," Thomas notes, the hint of anger his voice once held gone.
"Yeah! I'm really in the mood for sausage for some reason," Redmane says, her tail wagging now.