"Well, that is certainly correct," Rutile agrees, their head held high, but even as the words escape their mouth they wonder about its truth.
The Malimo District, even once they begin navigating away from the open marketplace, is still a cacophony of shouts of anger, cries of joy, bells, whistles, and everything in between; the colors are dizzying, and it's a wonder the two of them can navigate the crowded streets and hold a conversation at the same time. Rutile ducks to the side as carpenters carrying a large ornamental log cross the street, and immediately has to move when a caterer and a cart go zipping by.
"End-of-year holidays, it looks like."
"And so many of them, too. As many as there are people, I think - are there any Dreamfolk-specific ones? From your people, perhaps?" Rutile asks X.
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"Well, that is certainly correct," Rutile agrees, their head held high, but even as the words escape their mouth they wonder about its truth.
The Malimo District, even once they begin navigating away from the open marketplace, is still a cacophony of shouts of anger, cries of joy, bells, whistles, and everything in between; the colors are dizzying, and it's a wonder the two of them can navigate the crowded streets and hold a conversation at the same time. Rutile ducks to the side as carpenters carrying a large ornamental log cross the street, and immediately has to move when a caterer and a cart go zipping by.
"End-of-year holidays, it looks like."
"And so many of them, too. As many as there are people, I think - are there any Dreamfolk-specific ones? From your people, perhaps?" Rutile asks X.