He looked her up and down as she came out. You could tell she wasn't exactly comfortable in the clothes, which was probably understandable. They were quite different to what she was used to. He nodded, smiling a little. "Yes, you have to wear shoes. Part of our society, I'm afraid," he said, shrugging. He raised his eyebrows as she asked about their queens.

"We don't have queens here. We have a president, that the people elect to rule our country, and a government that we elect to decide on laws and such. And if the president is in town, I highly doubt we'll get anywhere close to him. But if we do, you can look him in the eye and shake his hand," he explained, patting his pockets in search of his wallet and phone. "Hold on, I've just got to get something," he said, disappearing back into the bedroom to retrieve them.

"So, are we good to go?" He asked as he came back out.

(My posting frequency is gonna get ugly this week. Apologies for future delays. Moving hard.)


"I see you are a people of rules too." She offered a small smile and begrudgingly kept the shoes on, though they were awkwardly large on her. Ridahne did not have entirely small feet, though they were not as big as Spencer's. Men, she knew, often had larger feet. The jeans felt thick around her legs, the fabric was heavy and to her, it felt unwieldy, but it was nice to be a little more covered, as the air was colder here than she was used to. If she had a way of measuring it, at home it would be around a hundred degrees, but it was much less here. However, 'degrees' were a foreign concept to her and she knew only hot and hotter. The shirt was fine though, if not strange.

Ridahne looked at him, baffled. "You...don't have queens? No Sota?" She had no idea what a president was, especially not since it sounded like said ruler was a male. Male?? Didn't they have other jobs to do? Who guarded them? What did the women do? And she did not know what an elected ruler was. "I don't understand. You have a king? He is male? And what is elected? Do....women protect your king then?" She was clearly confused by this idea and it all felt backwards to her. "You...are allowed to...touch your leader? Your p-pre-si-den? At my home, if you touched a Sota, she or her Taja--uh, her um, keepers? Guards? Would cut off your hand." She made a slicing motion with her hand and a cutting sound with her mouth.

Spence gathered his things and she nodded to him; the headed out the door. The further she walked outside of the door, the more tense and quiet she became. She looked more and more like the woman who pulled a knife on him and threatened him than the one who squealed at the sight of a fridge light. There was something militant in her, something fierce, violent, and strong, almost wild. As the world opened up to her and showed just how far from home she was, it was as if Ridahne shut down. She did not speak and wouldn't unless spoken to, for she had nothing to say. But more than that, her body language shifted and became what could only be described as coiled, like a cat backed against a wall and preparing to strike at an outstretched hand. Out of habit, her right hand did not stray far from her side, as it was the one she used to draw the knife from behind her back, which was effortlessly hidden underneath Spencer's loose clothing. Though Ridahne was tense, she was no less graceful, in fact, she was almost more so. This defensive demeanor was almost her natural state and she fell into it easily.

Whoever she was at home, she had clearly been trained to be aware of her surroundings and to know how to respond to a situation if it turned ugly. She also seemed like the type of person to make a situation ugly.

"You lead," she said cryptically, her eyes constantly scanning the area.

Even as they walked down the hall, he could see her tensing up, becoming the person who had attacked him. Her posture became more and more feline, like a tiger waiting to strike. If she was like this just heading for the elevator, what was she going to be like on the streets? But still, when she was like this, he wasn't going to cross her. He'd just have to hope that she didn't hurt anybody when they were actually on the streets.

He pressed the button and turned to her. He was going to have to warn her about the elevator in case she freaked out and ended up destroying something vital. "This is the elevator, it will take us down to the ground floor. It's like a small metal box. We're only going to be in it for a few seconds, so just... try not to freak out, okay? I'll be with you, you'll be safe," he promised.

Ridahne silently followed him to the elevator and watched him as he pressed the button; the little circle lit up from behind and her eyes caught it in wonder, though none of this amazement seemed to show on her face. Instead it was cold and stony, her eyes intense and analytical. Ridahne would never admit it to him, nor to herself really, but she was scared. Not so much of the elevator itself, but of the unknown and the possibility that she would be stuck here. If she'd willingly traveled to another world and could willingly return to her own world, it would be different; this would all be one big adventure that she could take or leave as she pleased. But it wasn't. Stepping outside the apartment made it all the more real that she was not at home, and she had the horrible sinking feeling that she would never see home again. Spencer mentioned he might be able to talk to someone who might make sense of the situation, but even so, Ridahne was no optimist. As far as she was concerned, nothing good happened to her when the chances of something going wrong were so prominent. Ridahne was stuck here in this unfamiliar world whether she liked it or not, and that prospect terrified her deep down.

"Not to offend you, but where I come from, I learned not to trust my safety to the hands of other people. And I don't fear your box." Her tone was not harsh but definitely aloof. Ridahne was a guarded woman when she got uneasy. The elevator door rolled open and she inspected the small space quietly. There were so many buttons! What did they all do? When Spencer pressed one and the elevator began to move she guessed its purpose. But then as it moved she dropped down into a grounded stance, looking a little like a dog taking her first car ride and still trying to stay standing. She couldn't say she was expecting it to move down and her mind swirled with different places it could be taking them. Underground? Or were there just that many floors? How could there be that many floors??

The elevator opened up to another floor, but she could see up ahead that they were now on the ground level. "How many floors are there? Is this all your home? How...big is this place?"

He just raised his eyebrows as she said that she didn't fear the elevator. However, as it started moving, she dropped down, looking like she was trying to keep her balance almost. Spence resisted the temptation to comment and instead just watched her. Her stance was like that of a cat unsure of it's surroundings, watching everything around her. He knew that he took this world for granted, but watching her was reminding him of exactly how strange this world was. Then again, her world was probably just as strange to him.

Once they reached the ground floor, he stepped out, turning back around to look at her. "There's twenty floors altogether. I live on the fifth floor, and I'm just renting the apartment. The entire building isn't mine, no. Just the rooms you saw," he said, shrugging. As he glanced out the door, a car driving past caused him to realise something terrifying. If she'd been so amused by a lightbulb, how was she going to imagine with cars, buses and god knows what else? This might have been a bad idea. But it was too late to back out now- he'd agreed to help, so he had to.

"Come on, then, let's go see the city."

Ridahne could not believe what she was hearing. Twenty? That seemed impossible. She'd seen four floors before, and that was huge in her eyes. Nobody in Atakhara had two floors, nor in the mountains. That was a northern thing, where there was more money and resources than what she ever had. And that was fine, Ridahne was never one for the indoors anyway and saw them as a place to store a few things and to sleep, though as of late, she'd been without even that and was doing just fine. "Do we have the same twenty?" She asked, looking at him like he was insane. "Like two of ten? That is...so many! Are you sure?" And then she thought of how many buildings she'd seen looking out the window and knew that this was not the only large building around. There must have been thousands of people in this one city! How did they ever find enough food?

The elevator door opened showing a lobby she thought had to belong to a queen due to its size and extravagant (to her) interior. Outside she could see many people walking by, as well as several brightly painted carts made of metal and glass parked on the side of the street. Ridahne followed him outside but her attention was diverted away from him and fully to the strangeness of her surroundings. It was so loud and the air smelled almost smoky. People looked at her long as they walked by. Ridahne stared challengingly back. She inspected a car parked nearby--a red prius-- and after touching it with one slim hand, decided to hop up on the hood and sit on it like a reclining chair.

"Your carts are strange. Where are the horses? And why are these metal? Can the horses pull metal?" She was still a little stiff and quiet as if on high alert; her eyes never lingered on him long before they scanned the people and buildings.

"Hey!" An older man waddled up with his hands outstretched angrily. "What are you doing, lady? Get off my car before you put a dent in it! What are you thinking, sitting on someone else's car anyway? Don't you--" And that's all Ridahne needed. She slid off the hood of the car and stepped towards him, standing tall and straight as her fiery eyes locked onto his. She spoke quickly in her own language and at a considerable, harsh volume. Enough that the man took one look at her very aggressive hand gestures and the fact that she was inching closer and closer to him and backed up with his hands out in front of him.

Ridahne didn't get why he wasn't yelling back. She knew they spoke different languages, but surely he understood she was fighting with him? He was supposed to yell back, but he didn't. Instead he left, leaving her there with the last word and a hot look in her amber eyes. But the whole exchange she played off as normal--after all, if someone was irritating, it often resulted in a yelling match, if not a quick scuffle.

Spence had barely opened his mouth to answer her questions and to warn her that maybe she shouldn't be sitting on the car when a stranger appeared and started yelling at her. She started yelling back in the language she'd first yelled at him in. Rather than getting involved, he became very interested in a poster on one of the lampposts. When the yelling subsided, he turned to look at her.

"So yeah, first things first, don't sit on other people's cars. They don't like that. Secondly, horses don't pull them. They drive themselves because of engines and... stuff. It's a long story, one that I can't really explain. I'm not an engineer. Half the time, it's easier to walk in the city, though. That way, you don't get stuck in traffic or anything like that. C'mon, let's see some of the other sights," he said, anxious to get her into a situation where she'd find it harder to get into a fight.

Ridahne glared at the vehicle and then in the direction the man had gone. Said man had intended to take his car home, but he was so thrown off by the kind of frightening looking tribal chick yelling at him and he thought it was possible she might try to hurt him or steal from him, just from the way she looked--her words may have been foreign, but her body language was very readable. So he went for a coffee instead. The woman crossed her arms, her brows knitting together and making her tattoos wrinkle a little. "He is strange." It wasn't that she was offended for being yelled at initially--that was all routine to her. "He just walked away after he yelled at me...isn't that...you show a weakness? And how am I supposed to know I don't sit on it, look at it! It looks like I should sit there! Besides, where else do you ride it?" She shook her head, clearly disapproving of the man's conduct.

The engine bit left her silent for a while though. She had to sort through that idea quietly. No horses? And it powered...itself? That, she could not fathom. Things did not go on their own. "En'giiiine? What is inside it? Is it alive? Do you have horses at all?" This time she did not bolt off before he could answer these questions and instead strode smoothly beside him like some long-legged cat. Ridahne had the body of a dancer--a dancer with plenty of warrior's training. Each of her movements, however small, seemed intentional. "And what is tra'fiic?" This one, however, she was able to guess. "That is when there are too many people in front of you and you can't move, yes?"

"This is all very unfamiliar to me. You will have to tell me things," she explained. "Like...not to sit on carts, or whatever."

Spence shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. "Not exactly. He was more or less saying that he didn't really want to get into a fight with you. You probably scared him with the yelling and the looking like you were going to run him through with your knife and all that. He doesn't know that you're not from here, so he just thought you were being an asshole by sitting on his car. You sit in the car." He nodded as she guessed what traffic was. "Yes, that's right. It gets pretty damn bad in this city," he said.

"I'll answer any question you have. But you'll have to ask me, because I'm so used to living in this world that I take it for granted. So, maybe ask me before you do anything that I'm not doing, okay?" he said, stopping at a traffic light and hitting the button. "Don't go until I do, you might get hit by a car," he instructed. Shopping with her was going to be... interesting to say the least. How did they even shop in her world? Did they just make their own clothes from cloth? Or was it more like it was here?

"Well, he is smart not to fight with me, I have been fighting on the street since I was small. I would break his arm. Like this," without warning, she went through the motions, grabbing Spence's wrist and locking his forearm in place before shoving her palm into it. Of course, she only used a light amount of force since she didn't want to actually hurt him, just to demonstrate. She let him go. "I got very good at it. Breaking noses too." She said this casually, like it was not unusual for her to know this and be good at it. In fact, it was quite common in her region. "But he should stand up for himself or people will walk all over them like stones. But don't people yell here? How else do you get things done?"

Ridahne couldn't imagine how one might fit inside a car. There seemed to be no hole or opening big enough for a person to fit through, though peering inside of one, she could see seats made of padded leather and a funny looking circle in front of one of them. She was about to ask how one would get inside when she saw someone across the street open the door to her car and sit inside. It was so smooth against the surface of the car! She would have missed it otherwise. And so much metal! She couldn't imagine how much they cost or how long it took to make one.

It was a good thing Spence warned her not to cross the street until he did, because she was already moving to do so. She got half a step in when he made the comment, and she halted with a huff. She did not like waiting, nor did she like taking direction from others, but he had a point. She'd been nearly trampled by horses a few times and more than once had been tackled unintentionally by a trotting hunting cat. Traffic lights were not a thing where she was from, nor were road rules.

"There are so many people...is your country...big?"

He nodded in reply to her question. "Yeah, it's pretty big. The population's a couple of million, not sure of the exact number, to be honest. And a couple of thousand kilometres across, I guess? I don't really know. C'mon, we're going," he said as the light turned green. If there was one thing he had learned in his time in the city, it was that you didn't delay at traffic lights. "What was I saying? Oh yeah. It's quite a big country, really."

They reached the shopping centre, and he beckoned her inside. "The thing about asking before doing anything I'm not doing still applies in her, okay?" he said, afraid of how she would react to this strange new world. He led her into the clothes shop and stopped, glancing at her to gauge her reaction.

The numbers were beyond her comprehension, and she didn't even know what a kilometer was, but it had to have been large and densely populated. Large, she could understand, but not so populated. Azurei was a wide country broken in two by a sharp mountain range and bordered mostly by the sea, but much of the land was either speckled with sparse outposts of civilization or none at all, leaving a strong majority of the territory to the wild animals that roamed the red desert sands and climbed the great mountains. It was here in these wastes that Ridahne lived now, or had lived, it seemed. It was quiet out there, which she found to be both a curse and a blessing.

Inside the shopping center, Ridahne had very little idea of how to proceed. First of all, the doors opened seemingly by themselves at just the precise moment they approached them and Ridahne pictured two children pulling the doors by ropes somewhere on the other side. Secondly, the air was a blast of frigid cold that Ridahne had not felt in ages, not since she'd been on the sea in a storm. Her face wrinkled and she wrapped her arms around her chest. There were racks as far as the eye could see with an overwhelming number of jackets and shirts and things she did not totally recognize.

For a while, Ridahne did not move. She stood, watched, studied. "It is quiet in here. No one is yelling about prices, or about their things they want to sell..." She watched a woman flip through clothes on the rack and decided to do the same, figuring that was the best way to go about all of this. She didn't totally know what to look for, but it was a start. The section she was in was for shirts, she figured out, as they looked somewhat similar to the one of Spencer's she was borrowing. She kept glancing back at the woman browsing the clothing several feet down the aisle from her, watching what she was doing.

"I...find something I want to wear and I just...take it and give money to someone there?" She pointed to the registers; she was quick on the uptake and knew the jingle of even unfamiliar coins. Ridahne flipped through the shirts, eventually picking one up that was a loose gray tank top. Ridahne inspected it for a moment, then unceremoniously stripped her shirt off and tossed it aside, putting the tank top on instead to see if it fit. She did not have what one might call a proper bra, but the area was covered by a bandeau-like piece of fabric that tied in the back, and she clearly did not seem to be ashamed to be seen in public in it. Her knife was also exposed against her back, nestled in a very worn leather sheath that sat hilt-side-down in the center of her lower back, held in place by a minimalist harness that kept the sheath in place. It too, was very worn and in one place there was a rather major blood stain on the brown leather. The top was a size or two too large on her. "Is it supposed to be so much fabric? Or do I go have it stitched by someone? I don't know how to...shop for clothes. I never had money for them, so I buy fabric instead. Or trade someone. And...I do not know what to buy."

All was going surprisingly well- until she removed her top and pulled the new one on. He avoided making eye contact with the other shoppers, keeping his eyes planted on his feet until she asked a question again. "Okay, I'll explain. Because you don't know what size you are, you need to try a few. That looks a size or two too big for you..." he said, checking the size on the hanger and picking up the next size or two smaller. "Then, we go to the changing rooms over there-" he pointed in their general direction, "- and try them on and see what size fits you best. You'll need to try a few different sizes in everything. We don't change right out in public here," he said. "Just ask me if you're unsure about anything, okay?"