Liya looked at Yoshi doubtfully, but he turned away again, saying as he crossed over to the chest of drawers, "Do you want to go into Escalus with me? I want to look for my construct."

Liya eyed her own reflection again. "Your...? Oh! Your bird phone thing."

"Yes." Yoshi had pulled on a white sweater over his open-backed undershirt; it was printed with curly gold leaves and vines. He pulled his long hair out of the neck of the sweater, shaking it back over his shoulders. Liya looked sheepish.

"You din't get it back when I dropped it?"

"No."

"Oh." Liya joined him at the chest of drawers as he finished getting his hair out of his face. "Y-yeah, I'll go. 'S my fault it's lost."

"Then you'll need a scarf," he said kindly, and handed her one. "It's supposed to snow today."

This piqued Liya's interest, and she looked at Yoshi with wide eyes. "Snow?? I've never seen snow."

It was not snowing yet by the time they got into the city, but the sky hung heavily overhead, so darkly grey and hazy that it was hard to tell what time of day it was. Under this the city of Escalus spread outward from the southern side of the main river; it only stretched a few miles from the river's edge, to where it was hemmed in at the south by a lake, where a canal dug from the main river emptied. In those few miles though, brightly-colored buildings clustered all up against each other tightly along the curved roads and canals.

Liya looked up at the sky, but it showed no sign of snowing just yet--it was merely flat grey. Her breath steamed, though, and along with the borrowed scarf she'd donned a pair of simple earmuffs. Yoshi walked beside her, wearing a warm tan jacket with a fleece collar, but seeming otherwise unbothered by the cold.

"So, uh," Liya said, breaking the silence. "Is there a reason we're taking side streets?"

They were in fact walking down a narrow road that wound between unmarked, presumably residential, buildings. The buildings were all narrow and close together, joining in places via bridges or overhead walkways or small mossy courtyards. Each building was a different color--here bright yellow, there a slate blue painted over with flowers and murals--and all had moss growing on them that seemed to flourish in the damp, even with the cold. The river reeds that sprang up in every available space up against the sides of the buildings showed the season, though, and had gone brownish and dry. The street was totally empty and totally silent.