Freya continued her walk through the town. It was as beautiful as every other town she has visited. Men and women still jumped and repulsed at Freya's armor, some running away. Children were also scared, but some had more curiosity than fear. They reminded her of herself and her sister, who were always more curious than afraid. Regardless, the children's parents or older siblings dragged them away from her. It was all understandable. Armor as monstrous-looking as hers gave her an appearance that clashed with the city's beauty.

Some men thought to yell at her, and women thought to speak about her as she passed them. These people knew that the appearance was just armor, but they still had one thing wrong. When they spoke of her, they referred to her as a man. The armor visually hid her womanly features easily, and the common thought was that men usually carried around a heavy-looking bag. There were exceptions, but still, they were rare. At least to Freya. 

Looking about the city once more, she decided to sit down one more time. This time, just to admire the sights. She found a nice place, placed the large blue bag next to it, sat down in her cross-legged fashion, and gazed upon the busy life. At some point, she found that there panicking people. She didn't know why though. At another point, she felt a strong gust of wind. She found it unnatural, but passed it off as nothing too strange or concerning. She just continued to sit and gaze...