Artemis was feeling a little under-dressed. Which was not a common feeling for her; not when she was trotting around with forty pounds of polished bronze armor hanging on her back! But there in the 'Bridle Path Clothiers,' among the elegantly-dressed salescolts in their neat suit jackets adorned with crisp shirts and ties, starched cuffs and collars, and ornately-folded and flared pocket squares, the pegasus felt a bit oppressed by the quiet, formal luxury of it all. While they silently glided around the store on flat leather-soled shoes that somehow barely made a creak in the floorboards, the best Artemis could manage, no matter how much she tried to make herself inconspicuous -- or at least, less conspicuous -- was still a thunderous clatter of plate and jingle of mail. It was like trying to tip-hoof around a library!