She buries her face against wiry fingers, pushing her glasses uncomfortably into it, and her ears betray her with the way they twitch and flop atop her head. She's a blur only picking up past the remaining passersby with a similar - if very differently born - inclination to hers, heading as well to the hot springs or other nighttime attractions as orange bleeds purple. They turn to watch her as she passes, though she navigates her way deftly through any bodies in her way and finds herself at the springs entrance. She stands there, panting - unbeknown to Saturn's desire to follow her while also not discounting the possibility. She didn't care. She didn't care about anything. Aaaaagggghhhhh.
She ruffles up her expression, peeking out from between her digits disgruntled, and she resembles a rabbit lifting its head from the snow. Hers is russet shaded and topped with one ear perked and the other dangling to the side from the stress of it all.
At least something was bending under its weight. She wouldn't! She had full control of her faculties and that awful, awful thrum in her heart, and the way it parts and hisses through her teeth and is bit down again with a heavy sigh. "Okay." She starts. Okay. She takes another breath, fingers pulling at her coat already, and walks steadily into the building and the waiting waters beyond.
We catch up with her again as her layers fall beneath the coating of steam, furs first to go and begetting the thin layer of her own own that fluffs along her shouldertips and the plush of her thighs. She takes light, hare-like steps, as if she could go bounding off on any - and her hair is released from its braiding, falling sunsettia down her frame until it stops just above the small of her back. Her glasses are set to the side, useless in these new boughs. Her tail gives a twitch, losing its tensed puff to weigh with the moisture of the air, and she breathes in the warmth to lose herself inside of it. "Okay ...," she mumbles, disappearing behind the fog and into the open bath.