There were Easterners all wearing different clothes, and they all seemed to be going about their day. Some of them were carrying packages, and some of them were talking to each other. The all-around atmosphere really didn't seem that bad to me, but the wetness was a drag.
"I mean, I know a bit, but I am not from here. I have been here less than a week," I explained, and Mishal nodded as she leaned against a white stone building.
"As the eggs mature, they get a golden filigree design on them in the image of the person that is to be born. When the eggs are seven months old, you have a pretty good idea of what they will look like, and the marks of the storm under our eyes always stand out at that point," Mishal explained, and I nodded.
"That is rough, but you seem to have some friends with the Easterners, right? Or why are you hanging around with them?" I asked, and Mishal shrugged.