It was the crowd that carried her where it willed. She, slight enough, without fight or need to shoulder her way through--was swept along in them. Like a minnow in a school of rushing salmon. Her cloak’s hood kept the worst of the sunlight from her face, gloves protected skin of hands, even the feather white of hair was bound this time. To give her more chances to seem just another body in a sea of them. They deposited her before a shop that sang strange songs, quiet and strange, to her. This world’s song was so...broken, like me, different, that to find a single note of gentleness had her turn her attentions to the door and inward. Glass tittered like delicate maids in the lamp’s light glow. Sadhbh found herself floating between mystery or curiosity, surrounded by objects that she wished to touch. She did not. But continued to wonder in dream like honey-bee hovering from shelf to shelf, display and such. There were a few other bodies within the shop, a man with a basso voice that seemed to be displeased with something the woman behind the counter did. When Sadhbh finally pulled herself away from a spun-glass creations, something the man said caused the woman to stiffen, the reflexive response to make a fist around whatever it was in her hand and crush it. The man was leaning across the counter now. For long moments, Sadhbh could do nothing but watch as he attempted to presume on the lady’s status of being wed or unwed. Though the little woman in her cloak did not stir, the encounter made fleeting thoughts leap in her own, remembered fear. Instinctual, Sadhbh’s hand made the sign of the earth; whispering the words of a simple healing charm. As what was clasped in the hand had cut the woman. She wondered if it was glass? And it was not until she had finished her silent incantation that she realized what she had done and startled, bumped into the man in her hurry to withdraw.