Having brought the crate with her, she held onto it as best as she could. Luckily for her, rotten old flowers did not prove very heavy to carry. But the crate proved to be a problem for the Priestess. The wood kept pressing against her large bust, causing her breasts to rise a bit obscenely. The strings in her black swashbuckler shirt stretching more than what she felt was comfortable. She feared they might fail her in the middle of the street, the Priestess never considered the fact that she already put a bit too much on display with that kind of shirt.<br/><br/>"Awh! There has to be a better way.." The night elf sighed to herself, a hand brushing away imaginary sweat on her forehead. She tilted her head, one hand placed at her hip while pouting her full lips. Her mind worked tirelessly in order to think up a more comfortable way to deal with this. She was completely unaware of the stranger following her. And if she noticed a hint of movement, then she considered it normal. She had spent her last year in Northshire as a mender and had spent some time near Goldshire. She wouldn't recommend it if a good night's rest was the primary objective!<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>