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That was a pretty memorable discussion. Wasn't Bauta also the one who thought the Raevans present at the party were all some sort of elaborate Halloween decorations? Poor guy, he must have been feeling terribly out of the loop.

...wardrobe... what? How out of the loop was this guy? He didn't even seem to be able to catch on to common modern slang. "I didn't mean like that..." Mouse started, trying to clarify, but decided it would probably be best to drop the subject entirely and trailed off there. It wouldn't have been very nice to explain that she had thought his wardrobe was a part of his costume and was a bit surprised that such a style of dress was what he wore every day.

The girl is momentarily unsure whether Bauta is being sincere with his Knights of Camelot remark about chivalry, and she is once again at a loss for a response. For a moment she just... looks at him with a curious little smirk, as if he's expecting him to explain himself further or keep on waxing poetic. "You can't be serious," she finally replied. The sneaking feeling that he was had a harder time being shaken off.

"Really," the girl grins, encouraging Fredmitri to climb back up on her shoulder so she can cross her arms. So he was being sincere... what do you know, a genuine gentleman. "Well, then you better be careful, since that won't stop a girl from lying to you."

Mouse chuckled a bit at his next question. "Yeah, you caught me. This is my first time in Durem." Strange that she would run into someone she had never seen since a five-minute conversation in October all the way up here. "I don't even know where anything is, or even if I'm really looking for anything." The whole 'being short' thing made that part of being in such a place a mite difficult, but she wasn't about to admit it. It was the market's fault for being poorly organized! At least supermarkets usually had nice, readable signs hanging from the ceiling that told you where to find what you wanted.

Along with subzero air conditioning, giant hazardous displays of canned goods, small children that would almost always be crying at something, people at the checkout line buying half the store when she was just picking up some ice cream and batteries, creepy individuals giving out samples, bulk items being kept on higher shelves...

Talking about the charms of the city was pointing out the obvious as far as Mouse was concerned. "I noticed, it looks a lot more livable than the city I grew up in," she's quick to reply. "For one, I can breathe without worrying about getting cancer." Next to Bauta, her voice was... well, it's always like a tightly coiled copper spring, but the contrast made it a bit more noticeable.

She took in the taller man's information appreciatively, nodding slowly while turning in place in order to try and take a look around. When crowds of people weren't getting in her line of sight, she was able to see what he was talking about, taking note of various stands selling the myriad of things that Bauta appeared to be so fond of. Lots of fresh food, and some of them were interestingly specialized... there were enough places to go that she wasn't sure where to start.

"You think you have the time for that?" Mouse adjusts her glasses and ruffles her hair, looking sidelong up at the harpy. This didn't seem the place to take a casual sightseeing stroll. Then again, he didn't look too terribly busy, and she liked the idea of having someone around to show her where all the good stuff was. "Well, okay. Sure."

"You have a store?" A few seconds of thought into the question, and it was surprisingly easy to picture this man behind the counter of a small shop of some kind. What would a anachronistic harpy sell at his store then, cravats? Fancy hats? Tiny little porcelain figurines that have no purpose besides collecting dust, yet somehow are always decent gifts when you can't think of anything else?

His voice and manner of speech probably made him into quite an effective salesman, fancy words could add untold value to just about anything...

The proffered arm is looked at with the bit of confusion Mouse was slowly coming to expect whenever Bauta started saying or doing something that had drifted outside of the social norm literal decades ago. She was about to respond to it with something along the lines of 'I only do that on the third date or with close friends', but she quickly remembered how proud he was of his chivalry and decided that she didn't want to hurt his feelings.

So, accepting the offered arm, she said, "Alright, lead the way."

A mask shop. So he was a... mask-maker. That was pretty interesting. "An artisan, huh? You don' t see very many of those anymore. I'll have to stop by and take a look around sometime." Not that she could think of any reasons to own a mask at any time of year besides Halloween, but it would be a welcome change to see some that weren't made out of cheap plastic and rubber.

"I didn't even know this place existed, so I'm not really looking for anything," Mouse said, somehow managing to curl her arm around Bauta's own enough for her to rub her cheek in thought (he had relinquished his rights to his personal space the very moment he offered it). "I mean, I already have plenty of unhealthy canned goods at home, and it's not like I'm always going to go out of my way to the next town over just so I can get some food."

Some food for now might be a good idea, though. She had planned to find a nice restaurant or something to eat at while visiting here, and now she was getting pretty hungry. If any generic snack stands showed up in this fancy place, she would be making a quick beeline towards them.

Things were fairly calm and normal as Mouse was led through the market and given a glimpse of what it had to offer-- well, as normal as it could get when she was a green-haired girl being used as a napping perch by a mollusk-cat and her guide being a tall-dark-and-handsome winged man whose choice of fashion was over two hundred years out of style. And that was the level of normalcy that the girl had grown used to, so it didn't cause her much distress at all.

Passing so closely by so many food stands was making her hunger all the more aggressive, too. Everything in this place smelled so good that it was practically making her weak in the knees (compared to supermarkets, which usually smelled like cardboard and air conditioning). "Well, I am getting kind of..."

A chance turning of her head in the right direction made her notice an absolute miracle. There, among the fringes of more refined salespeople and products with greater quality, was a tiny row of fast food stands. Mouse could only assume that they were put there because this was a good place to market to spoiled rich kids and tourists. Thankfully, she was the latter.

"Hey, let's go get some nachos!" Before Bauta could have a chance to protest, she was already weaving past the droves of other shoppers over to the Promised Stands, which reeked of salt and grease.

Mouse had never eaten an insect before, whether it was foreign, local, fried or still squirming. In any case, she didn't even suspect that Bauta was having paranoid thoughts about the area she was leading him to, and continued her blissfully oblivious task of dragging him over. The crowd soon thinned to straggling little lines and clusters around the vendors selling junk food.

She didn't even give him the chance to be a gentleman and offer to pay for them-- one advantage of being below average in size was that it was easy to squirm her way through a crowd. It was only a few short moments before she was holding out a paper tray of hot nachos to the nervous harpy, expecting him to take it before getting some for herself.

"Be careful with those, they're a bit messy."