Ange couldn’t believe it. That beloved plush lion her cousin had loved... the one her aunt had given to her daughter, claiming it to be handmade... it and many like plush lions were lined up on this store’s shelves. That plushie that Maria had played pretend with and her mother had ripped to shreds before her eyes... was a mass produced doll. It brought tears to her eyes, and Ange reached out to touch the stuffed lion. “Sakutaro...” she mumbled.

However, she backed up for a moment upon seeing another person outside of the store. She didn’t see any clerks in the store, and maybe this person would know where they were. She wiped her tears away and headed out to that person. “Sorry to bother you, but do you know where the store clerk for this store may be? I saw a lion plushie and wished to buy it...”

“Do do do do...” Lyra’s singing voice extends into the night, each syllable longer than the last.  She’s quite good at singing, if she may say so herself, but it’s been a while since she’s done so.  Her throat is already sore from lack of practice.

She contemplates taking it up as a regular hobby again; it’s not as if there’s much to do around Cataclysm.  But she’s admittedly a bit embarrassed to sing in front of others.  In her room?  That would still be audible by any neighbors she may happen to have.  It would be nice to have an instructor again, but she has a feeling it may be difficult to find one in a place like this.

It would also be nice to have a private place to practice, but she’s making do with this, a secluded spot just outside of town.  Nobody should be up at such a time, so she’s probably fine—

Snap.  Some noise behind her.