Santi made her way to the coffee shop, leaving the strange vision of the endless alley behind her.  In a way she felt strangely surprised that she was able to just walk away from it... if it was really some kind of punishment of sorts from that strange man she'd met, and not her own head wandering into the realm of insanity, then she found it odd that it would let her go so easily.  But then again, maybe it was still just his version of a warning, after all...<br/><br/>The inside of the shop was packed, and as she stepped through the glass doors and let her eyes adjust to the relative dimness inside she was able to pick out a few spaces here and there.  On the one hand she was surprised that the place was so full so early... but on the other hand she wasn't, seeing as how it was about the only place open at all yet.  And people<span style="font-style: italic">did</span>like their morning coffee to wake-up...<br/><br/>Coffee wasn't a luxury she allowed herself often, but occasionally she took some, if only to feel like she fit into a crowd in some way.  Usually no one had any idea that she was a homeless girl... and few guessed that she was a pickpocket, a scavenger, and less-than-rarely a prostitute... though she didn't really like that term, either.  She wouldn't have been any of those things, really, if it weren't for her situation... homeless and hiding and all that.<br/><br/>Clutching the warm cup of rather pale, milked-down coffee in an effort to counter the cold feeling that didn't seem to want to leave her body, she wondered where to sit.  There weren't many vacant seats, and those that were had other patrons right nearby.  At the counter there was a red-haired woman that looked to be near her age and who was dressed similarly to her... if a little less provocatively.  Prostitute?  Rich girl?  Woman with an aimless life?  Who knew.  There was also a lionmorph, reading a paper, looking either rich or simply down-to-earth, hard to tell.  He could be reading the phunnies or looking at his stocks, no way to know which... though he might be a good pickpocket possibility.  Still, she didn't like messing with feline reflexes if she could avoid it.  There was also a spot near a young border-crossing couple, which would likely be the best seat for her if she didn't want to be bothered.  They didn't look like they would see anything but each other, after all.  Although... you never knew if they might not be potential clients.  It was amazing how many couples were fascinated by the thought of sharing a "third party..."<br/><br/>She finally decided to sit near the couple, if only because this way she could soak up some sun through the windows as she savored her coffee.  For some reason she couldn't shake the cold feeling that icy wind from the alley had blown into her bones... and nor could she shake the memory.  She sat there, sipping her coffee, staring blankly out the window, lost in thought, the stolen pouch of credits nestled comfortably in her lap under the table.