She didn't need it. The girl had been Nordic. Built for the inevitability of child-bearing with Norse-blond looks. Rae was slighter, her figure leaner, her posture more straight but she had the impermeable facade of the mask held in place where the girl's had been papery, where tactical choices had penetrated through. Rae didn't wear cheap leggings, she wore black, trimly expensive and a short jacket that cost more than the contents of a Forever 21, setting aside the hoodie purchased in one entirely.
But she took the hand she was offered for the tactical reason she had it, and she jumped neatly - grace she hadn't had as an infant who lacked control - down from the hay-ride.
"I've no slippers to leave behind," Rae said with the glossy confidence of the adult, who had no intention of losing anything to the hay-ride and the evening.