Hold on to this lullaby; even when the music's gone

The saleswoman loves the fact that Claire is all over the clothing. She'd chosen shirts in varying shades of reds and grays and even a black or two; she particularly liked how well white sat against her slightly tanned skin. Despite this, she narrowed things down to a respectable pile and from there had narrowed it down just a bit more; she shouldn't take advantage that wasn't proper at all. It wasn't like she skimped but neither did she go to excess. It is with this newest outfit that she seeks out his thoughts, it clung and shifted in each way she moved and she had to wonder how it would fare when she shifted, something she clearly hadn't taken into consideration.

His approval is something that causes her to brighten and she swore that her end of the pack bond hummed with pleasure. At his signal to turn she is only too happy to oblige, twisting slowly enough to allow him a glimpse at it all, "I think it is better too." Perhaps one of the first real opinions she's had since leaving her home. She couldn't promise that her wide-eyed innocence at everything would damper anytime soon; she did have 18 years worth of catching up to do after all. There is a moment when she is looking again, perusing accessories while the saleswoman is listening to Frost. It was winter and the accessories matched the season, she runs her fingers over a delicate snowflake necklace that seemed more choker then dangling, lingering for a moment before moving on. She's never had a chance to do this, to look and choose that it was almost too overwhelming.

When the woman returns with boxes of shoes, Claire eyes these as if they might bite her, they were sparkly and she almost physically backed away from it. The saleswoman laughs at this, clearly making a joke at Claire's expense before gesturing for her to sit and opening the other boxes. None of them were those high-you-cant-walk-in-shoes, instead they were all in neutral colors of black, brown and grey and ranged from ankle high boots to flats. She ended up choosing a pair of grey boots and black flats, easy enough to slip on when she needed to. "I'll make sure there is no misunderstanding," the saleswoman says and approaches Claire with a pair of scissors to de-tag and bring them back to the register along with everything else she'd set aside.

Claire bounds back up to him then, looking more like an overexcited puppy then a teenager. "All set!" It is singsong and bright eyes that peer in the general direction of his before drifting once more to settle on a spot on the floor, uncomfortable with even raising her eyes that high. "A credit card?" She thinks for a moment, biting her lip in concentration, "It is a piece of plastic?" It is half question and half curiosity, hearing the word before and seeing her father hand her mother a square piece of plastic. "You swipe it," she says again, making a motion with her hands. She is curious to where he wanted to go, clearly excited to even do this little bit of an outing. She was sure this whole business would tire her out, she wasn't used to having to look out for threats, honestly besides someone attacking her she probably would even realize one until it happened.