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The work never ended, and she preferred it that way. Small nose held high, eyes lidded in a perpetual sense of disdain, small tail flicking with self-importance, Catwalk all but strutted down the aisles of Mare's Mane Event, the current trendy incarnation of fashion (probably out of fashion by the end of the week, but she'd worry about it then and only then). Most of the stuff was a bit too gaudy and - dare she say it - grotesque in the amount of straps and drapery - but there were some gems. Not many, but enough.

The babben saw a dress at the end of the aisle she was in - a magnificent modest dress of true black with a generous skirt, over the likes of which there were goldfish in a myriad of sunset-esque colors, the same color and theme set over the piece that would fit around the neck. As she neared it, she could also see that it had black details over the black fabric; layers and layers of detail, which was so up her alley it was almost embarrassing. [x]

Eager, she reached out with her teeth to snatch the garment, unaware of anyone else in the vicinity...

"Oh honey, you're no bother," she returned through clenched teeth, only turning her gaze towards the other babben to make sure she was pulling the garment away from the heathen, "it's not for me. I only thought parts of it fit for a dog for a show I'm dressing, but...I suppose that would fit you as well." A slight tug showed she wasn't yielding the garment. "If you're that desperate."

It could easily come across as cruel, but given Catwalk's penchant to favor animals over Phonies, it could have been a compliment. Her tone sure as hell wasn't making it clear one way or another, honeyed and full of sass.

The dark babben's words drew a genuinely confused look from Catwalk, eyes akimbo over black eyes that warred between curiosity and flippant disinterest. "Are you talking about the dress? Like it's...alive?"

Her mouth twitched around the fabric she clung to, trying not to smile. That was utterly ridiculous and clearly, this individual was not in their right mind. The tug was met with a yet unyielding hold, though some of the abrasive nature had eased from her brow. Barely. "I absolutely meant it. The sew work is sloppy and wont last scarcely a month." Catwalk tugged again, a little sharp, almost daring the fabric to tear just so the other would let it go. "Like I said. Barely fit for a pet. But I can salvage it."