Artemis sighed, and her armor clattered on her shoulders. Neither the commercial exploitation of the Gala nor the seasonal pretentiousness of her hometown's inhabitants were the thing that was actually upsetting the armored scout. She couldn't even claim to be uncomfortable anymore for standing out; in the time since the Royal Engineer had arrived, a few other colts had walked into the store, accompanied with armored guardsmares of their own. Though, of course, Artemis still had half again as much bronze on herself as they had between the two of them. But, at least there was a bit more ambient noise to mask her thunderous motions.