"But mummy! I don't want to go shopping!"
"Well tough." A dark haired woman snapped lightly at one of her sons. "You're not wearing that tunic every damn day of the week. And as dirty as you've been getting that damn thing, there isn't enough soap in the world anyhow." Shira huffed, blowing a strand of curl out of her face.
The little bugger had been no doubt testing the absolute limits of Shira's patience and control. He'd been fussy and loud all morning; something she was most definitely not used to. While the boy she held with her right hand was loud, brash, and restless, the boy on her left was the complete opposite: shy, wary, and NOT wanting to be in the store at this point in time.
"Mom," Demos attempted to whisper up at Shira, "why do I have to come too? Arthur is too loud, and everyone is staring at us." The greed eyed nine year old whined at the end. He was ready to leave the accursed mall; a place where not too many fonds memories resided. Somehow, whenever they came to the mall they always ended up meeting some random person they were supposedly connected to. Always.
"I heard that!" The british accent spat at his older brother; eager to brawl.
"Both of you be quiet!" Shira raised her voice for the first time that day, quieting her children and a few others around her. Having the decency to be embarrassed, grey eyes turned to the nearest store and quick feet followed inside.
Guess we'll be shopping here... Shira looked around at the brightly lit children's clothing store. As the group of feet patted along the tile, she prayed that she'd be able to shop without incident.
