We went over to the first shop where we found some fake, yet realistic looking sword and shields.
“May I help you with anything?” The employee asked.
It was this one woman who had to have been my age or maybe a year older with reddish-brown hair. I saw that her name tag read “Nevaeh” on it.
“Actually, you may.” I held up different types of swords in front of her. “Which one do you think is best for a dance performance with a bit of a fantasy, pseudo-medieval kind of vibe?”
She looked at the options and only nodded before answering.
C. M. B. Bell's Writing Universe 