I glanced at the dresses in Anastia's arms and shivered. The woman set them on a nearby shelf and tugged at my robe, giving me a questioning look. Reluctantly, I nodded and allowed her to take the garment off. The air felt particularly chilly, sending shivers down my tail, causing it to curl around my leg.
"You have beautiful hair," Anastia said, running a hand through a long, crimson lock. "But its color is hard to match. How about this one?"
She chose a deep crimson dress, a shade lighter than my hair. As she held it up, I stared, flushing.
"It's…revealing," I mumbled, hugging myself.
Anastia giggled. "No more than the rags you were wearing before. There's nothing to be ashamed of about looking lovely."
