Hunched shoulders won’t keep the cold from biting anymore than deep pockets will keep his hands warm, but he settles for what he can. It isn’t like he has warmer clothes than this one coat right now, after all. In fact, that’s partially why he’s out right now, snow freezing his feet through cheap, slip on shoes.
Admittedly, he has little yen and no idea whether shopkeepers will accept this kind of currency, but here he is wandering through the Fifth District anyway, peering through windows as he tries to decide which might be cheapest. He would love if he could return to his room with some warmer clothes and sturdier shoes by the end of the day, but he knows better than to hope too much. Especially when he has shit luck and is far more likely to return with frost bitten toes instead.
He steps back from another store front, stops short--he's felt himself back into another person, though whether they’re human or a youkai-something, he doesn’t know. Not until he turns and amethyst coloured eyes meet murkier purple. Mondo immediately averts his gaze while a hand strays to the back of his neck. Everything about him is awkward in that second, including his apology. ❝Uh, sorry. Should’a been more aware of people around me or whatever.❞