Masquerade
“Right. Animal.” Jovan stood in front of the crate that held the bulk of his clothing. Leather. Some linen, some wool, all of it sturdy, dun-colored, dull. He rubbed his forehead, given the headache that was building behind his eyes. Alissa was worth it, of course she was worth it. He’d take her to the thing, meet people if he had to, then hopefully drag her wherever to get her fancy costume right back off again. Worth it.
But for him...eh. He had that one suit, but it felt like a fucking vise and he looked like a fool, so no. He looked down at his current attire: hide trousers, hide jacket over a linen shirt. Hide hat. “That’s that,” he muttered to himself. When he clambered down the staircase, he ran into Rosella dressed in cunningly sewn black feathers. “What are you?” he asked.
“A crow,” she said. “What are you?”
“Dead cow.” He tipped his hat before heading out the door to fetch his...whatever she was, whatever people called it... from the Settlement.