It was quite the breezy evening in the local town, which was just a single cart ride trip from Saint Maribelle's, a town called Woodpine Town.
Raveena stood beside Professor Vask, arms tucked into her coat as a modest cart clattered off into the distance behind them, its driver giving a grateful wave. This was a familiar town for Raveena, as this was where she usually wandered for scraps, odd parts, and things with potential.
But unfortunately, she wasn't the one calling the shots tonight.
She side-eyed the professor and asked, "So… what are we shopping for, exactly?"
Professor Vask stepped forward, coat swaying behind her as she began walking at a steady pace. "Clothes," she said simply.
"Clothes?"
"For the Summit," the professor clarified. "Believe it or not, it's not strictly an aristocrats-and-crystal-goblets type of gathering. But it's still formal. Which means we don't show up looking like we crawled out of a grease trap."
Raveena scoffed. "Huh. Funny coming from you, of all people."
Professor Vask looked at her, brow raised. "Meaning?"
"Just saying, never thought you of all people would be the one teaching me about proper fashion," Raveena answered. "Feels wildly out of character."
The professor snorted. "Kid, I wear the same four coats because they're functional, not because I don't know what a pressed blouse is."
Raveena stuffed her hands deeper into her pockets. "So… what kind of formal clothes are we talking about, anyway? Just warning you now, I'm not into dresses and whatever frilly, ruffly nonsense you're imagining."
"And why's that?"
"Too… woman-like. Too fancy."
Professor Vask let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Yeah, well… what else did I expect? You've been like this since you were a kid. Always squirming out of anything with lace or buttons."
"Exactly," Raveena nodded.
"Honestly, seeing you now, it's hard to believe you ever grew up in a rich family."
"Hey now, we weren't rich. Just… capable. Comfortable. Don't go lumping me in with the nobility or anything."
"Mm. Sure." Professor Vask gave a half-hearted shrug. "Still feels like a waste, though. All those years, all that upbringing, then he had to—"
Suddenly, the professor stopped her words, realizing something that's probably best not mentioned for now.
Fortunately, Raveena didn't seem to notice. She was still walking, eyes in deep focus as if thinking about something else entirely.
"Oblivious," Professor Vask thought. "I almost slipped the—"
"What?" Raveena asked, catching the stare. "You're looking at me weird."
Professor Vask shook her head, brushing it off. "Nothing. Forget it."
Then she cleared her throat. "Anyway. Girly clothes or not, we'll see what you like when we get to the shop."
And sure enough, a few minutes of walking later, they arrived at a cozy little corner shop tucked between a lantern post and an herbalist's. The windows glowed with a warm inviting light and fabric silhouettes displayed behind lace-trimmed glass.
The bell above the door gave a jingle as they entered.
Inside, surrounded by folded silks, crisp coats, and mannequins fitted with tail-friendly hems, stood a small owl-folk woman who looked like she'd just seen off her last customer.
"Evening, Mrs. Wynlow," Professor Vask greeted with a nod.
The owl-folk clerk turned slowly, and her head tilted. Her gray hair was pinned back neatly, and the feather-shaped tufts at the sides of her head twitched slightly in greeting.
"Oh! If it isn't Junna Vask," she said with a smooth voice. "Good evening, haven't seen you come through in a while."
Professor Vask gestured toward Raveena, who stepped in quietly behind her. "I need something formal for my student here. Got anything that might fit her size?"
Mrs. Wynlow turned her eyes toward Raveena, who gave a small, polite bow.
"Good evening," Raveena offered.
"Good evening to you too, dear," the owl-folk woman looked her up and down briefly, then back to Professor Vask. "We'll have to measure her first."
Professor Vask nodded. "Go ahead."
Mrs. Wynlow stepped lightly from behind the counter and gestured with a flick of her hand. "This way, dear."
Raveena gave a small nod, following obediently toward the measuring corner at the side of the shop.
"Arms out, please," Mrs. Wynlow said kindly, already unwinding her measuring tape.
Raveena lifted her arms a little stiffly.
As the clerk began her work with taking Raveena's shoulder width, back length, and noting her posture, she asked gently, "Do you have anything in mind, dear? A particular style you're looking for? Flare-cut? High-waist? Perhaps something with shoulder ruffles?"
Raveena's eyes darted, unsure if she should nod, shake her head, or bolt for the door.
"Uhh… honestly, I'm not really well-versed in clothes," she admitted. "Especially formal ones. I don't really… wear them."
Mrs. Wynlow's smile didn't falter. "Oh, that's more than all right," she said. "Let me help you a bit."
She adjusted Raveena slightly and continued, "With your frame, a sleeker silhouette would highlight your balance well. A square neckline might draw out your collar line nicely, or if you're shy about the arms, capped sleeves are a lovely option. Now, if you want structure, we could go corset-backed, but not too tight, of course. High-low skirts give you some flair, or a straight cut for more confidence. And as for your tone, soft earth hues, say, deep pine or dusk gray, could really bring out your complexion."
Raveena blinked in a much more confused manner, then her ears started to tilt back.
"What the heck is a square neck."
"Wait, corset-backed?"
"What does 'structure' mean?"
"Why are sleeves capped?"
"High-low what now—"
Her brain couldn't process all that information about clothing.
Seeing the change in her student's expression, Professor Vask stepped in at last with a sigh. "Sorry, Mrs. Wynlow," she said. "Raveena here isn't really the 'dress' type."
Mrs. Wynlow looked genuinely surprised at that. "Truly? But she's such a beautiful young lady," she said warmly, stepping back a little and admired Raveena's details. "Just look at that smooth, long hair. And these adorable ears... You're panther-folk, aren't you?"
Raveena's ears immediately perked, and then folded inward once more as her cheeks turned a shade of pink as she mumbled, "...Yeah."
"Oh, you'll look stunning, no matter the choice," Mrs. Wynlow cooed.
Before Raveena could sink further into the wooden floorboards, Professor Vask cleared her throat. "Alright, alright, let's dial it back," she said. "What if we go for something more neutral—say, a proper tailcoat? Something she can wear both for the day events and evening ones?"
Mrs. Wynlow straightened thoughtfully, adjusting her spectacles. "Ah… a formal tailcoat set. Now that could suit her. Yes, yes…"
"Make it two to three sets, if possible," Professor Vask added. "Enough for a few days' worth of functions. No unnecessary frills."
As Mrs. Wynlow continued taking the last of her notes for Raveena's measurements, she nodded along. "We may have something close to her sizes… but if not, we'd have to tailor one from scratch."
Professor Vask folded her arms. "Think you can manage a rush job? Something wearable by tomorrow afternoon?"
Mrs. Wynlow tapped a finger against her chin. "Difficult… but not impossible. I do have a few helping hands. If we start tonight, and work through the morning… it can be done."
Raveena looked over at Professor Vask with a slightly worried face. "Wait, won't that be crazy expensive? You sure about this?"
Professor Vask didn't even blink. "Didn't I already say not to worry about the budget?"
Raveena sighed. "Right. Fine."
"Good." The professor said before she turned back to Mrs. Wynlow. "If you have any pre-made ones that might be close to her size, we'd like to check those first."
"Of course." The owl-folk gave a polite little bow of her head and turned toward the back counter and called, "Michael!"
A moment later, a teenage raccoon-folk boy popped his head out from the curtain-draped backroom. His goggles were askew on his forehead, and his sleeves were too long for his arms.
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Go check the storeroom for any tailcoat sets, coats and trousers, in this young lady's size," she said while handing the notes to Michael. "Tail opening included."
Michael took the paper and nodded. "On it!"
And off he went, disappearing into the storeroom racks.
After a few moments, Michael returned with a modest armful of tailcoat sets, only about four or five, carefully folded and slightly musty from storage.
Mrs. Wynlow laid them out one by one with a discerning eye, brushing the shoulders and smoothing the hems. "Let's try these first. Hopefully, we'll find a fit."
Raveena gave a small nod, then sighed before heading behind the modest changing screen.
And unfortunately, none of them worked for her.
The first one was too tight in the shoulders, making her arms feel like they'd tear through the seams if she so much as exhaled.
The second was way too loose, looked like she was trying to drown in her great-grandfather's old coat.
The third had a fine fit in the waist but bunched awkwardly at the back, causing her tail to get slightly squished.
The fourth looked okay… until she raised her arms and popped a button clean off.
The last one? Passable, but the sleeves practically swallowed her fingers.
By the time she returned to her normal clothes, buttoning up her own top again, she looked more tired than triumphant.
Mrs. Wynlow bowed her head slightly as she folded back the clothes and set them aside neatly.
"My apologies, dear. It's not often we prepare fitted sets for young women your size. You're rather tall, and your frame's… well, unique. In a good way, of course."
Professor Vask waved it off. "It's fine. No one's fault. Just last-minute nonsense. Would you be able to make two or three sets from scratch, then? I'll pay the rush fee. And extra—since it's short notice. I don't want to be unfair to your staff."
Mrs. Wynlow smiled gratefully. "Of course, we'll be able to handle that. I appreciate your kind consideration as well," then she turned once more toward the curtained doorway. "Michael! Fetch Miss Elry, Mrs. Marin, and Miss Redwood from the workshop. Tell them we've got some evening work to do. Promise them extra pie if they say yes."
"Got it!" Michael called back, already halfway out the door before the sentence was done.
As the bell jingled again behind him, Professor Vask turned toward Raveena and gave her a little gesture toward one of the stools.
"Sit down and relax for a bit. I'll go over a few final things with Mrs. Wynlow."
Raveena blinked, then nodded and quietly settled onto the stool by the window. She stared off a little, at the warm streetlamp right outside of the shop.
"First time doing anything like this," she thought.
The clothes, the formality, the weird attention to how a sleeve sits on your wrist, none of it really felt like her.
And yet, she couldn't deny one more thought in her head.
"Would I get to see Aya?"
And if she did…
"Would she be surprised?"
She hoped so, because it would be quite a treat to see her friend's reaction.