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Another trip to the commissary before the week was over was something she swore against. She'd get everything she needed for seven days, in and out like a flash of lightning. The lady would stare her down with a predatory gaze, her choppy and yellowing nails tapping vexingly at the glass counter. She would admit she hadn't built much trust with the people in the Sanctuary, but there was no reason to follow her every move.
She forced her feet, no matter how badly she'd rather stay curled in her room. It was the weekend, after all. The old woman still stood behind the counter and gave her the death glare permanently etched onto her face. Winona hurried past and decided that the shop might be a better option. After all, it was nice to help the people who were simply trying to make a living.
The desks lined up all in the same row, some faces becoming more familiar each time she visited. The one she knew the best was situated at the front, her elf-like ears pointing out from the brown hair the curled behind her hair. She looked delicate, everything about her soft and inviting. Even the clothes she made.
Winona made her way over to the table. The girl was sorting through her money when she glanced up.
"Back for more?" She teased.
"What can I say? I love your clothes."
Winona bit her lip and looked down at the display of items. It was mostly a collection of everyday wear and nightwear, with the few dresses that were mostly for Negan's wives. There was also a fair collection of underwear. Primarily lingerie, and it could be assumed that was for the wives as well.
"This might be a stupid question, but do you make anything for men?"
She tilted her head and seemed to think the question over. "Not specifically, but I must have some unisex things. Jewelry, gloves, scarves. You can take a look if you'd like."
Winona nodded shortly. The wide array of things were mostly female but if she looked hard enough, she could probably find something good enough for a man. Assuming Negan didn't want any jewelry, she turned to the scarves and gloves. Too much floral and too little leather. She hummed and sifted through the soft material, not bothering to check the prices. Negan would like something plain.
A vibrant color poked through the tons of material. A bright, crimson red scarf with flares at the end. It was plain yet eye-catching, so she curled it under her arm and nodded to the girl.
"How much is this?"
"Twenty points."
Winona threw it onto the table. The mousy girl docked her points, then handed it back with an amiable smile.
"I didn't catch your name," she said. "Are you new?"
"Somewhat. I'm Winona."
"Amelia." She stretched out her hand and Winona took it with a touch as gentle as hers. "Maybe I'll see you around."
