Today wasn't horribly cold, he admitted, but still the chill nipped at his exposed face and brought a slight redness to his sharp nose and high cheekbones. The student was dressed a bit light for the day, likely the reason for his irritation, but he simply couldn't wear anything else on his trip to the Plaza. He had to look like an image of galdori supremacy--whatever that looked like.
More than he cared for displaying superiority or wealth, he cared to look nice.
Not wanting to linger out in the cold any longer than he would have to, Norwyn left the university's campus on his green bicycle, making his way past groups of students and quickly out to the gates. The Plaza was alive with vendors, stands, and customers alike; a mix of races that he could only find naturally in the Stacks. There were human and passive servants throughout the university, sure, but certainly no wicks, and even the passage of humans was limited.
Sometimes it made him nervous to interact or even just be in the same area as the lower races, but he couldn't let that stop him from doing what he wanted to do. It was his only proper day off of school, seeing as his mandatory dinner was tomorrow, and he intended to spend it in the Stacks and ignore his studies for just a bit. The majority of his time was spent deep in his books after all, and though the amount of work he had taken on warranted this much time, he figured he should take a day for himself.
This was what brought him to the Plaza midday, dismounting from his bike and setting it to lean against the gates--if anyone intended to steal it, they would be clear in his sights.
Was that racist, to think that one of the humans or wicks would steal it? Surely it had to be... but Norwyn didn't have the mind for politics like his father, and he intended to leave matters to Hadrian.
For a few minutes, Norwyn wandered through the stands and stalls, dark brown gaze sweeping each vendor's inventory and finding little interest in most. He wasn't one for knick-knacks or decor, and though he knew he would find hunger clawing at his stomach soon, he would prefer to visit one of the taverns rather than grab a snack from the plaza. The tall, redheaded galdor kept his hands in his pockets and his field dampened, almost doetoeing around the various peoples passing by.
Where some galdori chose to display their power and thrust it upon everyone they could, Norwyn tended to do the opposite. It took a lot to anger the man, despite his eccentricities, and one would only find him flexing his red-shifted field in the most frustrating of times.
Or they could just insult his style--that would work just as quick.
A flash of light caught his attention; the reflection of the sun in silk fabrics drawing him nearer to the stands displaying fabrics and other supplies. This had been his true destination, as was clear in the delighted air about him as he approached the stall, hands reaching out to smooth his fingers down the closest silk.
"Oh, lovely," mumbled Norwyn to himself, letting go of the fabric and turning to look at everything else they were displaying. It was another galdor running the stand; an aging Mugrobi woman with a warm smile on her face that offered a nod of greeting to the student.
"Nice to see you again, darling. Is Anaxas still treating you well?"
"Of course. A bit cold for me, but it's worth it to see all you young-ones and your passions--did you sew those garments yourself, Mr. Siordanti?"
"Please Adana, just Norwyn, but yes I did. Is today's attire to your liking, dear?" the student smiled, always having found the woman a pleasure. She was soft in all things; soft-spoken, soft-bodied, soft-natured towards everyone without regards for their race or position.
"Your work is always to my liking, Norwyn."
It brought a small laugh from the younger galdor, his eyes turning back to continue looking through the materials on display.