The store is lively for a Saturday morning, carts weaving between one another and the occasional announcement crackling over the intercom. Isolde navigates the cereal aisle with her basket already half full, bun slightly more disheveled than when she first arrived, a few loose strands of black hair framing her face. Her blue t-shirt is a little wrinkled — she'd grabbed it off the chair rather than the drawer this morning, a distinction she told herself didn't matter. Her star-shaped eyes scan the shelves with surprising intensity for someone just buying groceries.
She reaches for a box near the middle of the shelf and something shifts in the arrangement, sending two other boxes cascading off the edge. She catches one. The other hits the floor with a flat smack. She stares at it for a moment.
"...Okay." she says to no one in particular, crouching down to pick it up. While she's down there she notices the box is actually dented on one side and holds it up to examine it with a slight frown. She sets it aside carefully rather than shoving it back, because someone else might grab it without noticing and that seems unfair. She finds a non-dented one and places it in her basket with quiet satisfaction.
She stands, turns, and nearly collides with the cart of the person behind her — stops just short, basket swinging with the momentum. Her eyes go wide for just a second before she exhales a small laugh and takes a step back.
"Sorry — sorry, I crouch in the middle of aisles apparently." she says quickly, the black star on her cheek catching the fluorescent light as she smiles.
