Overcome with a sense of indecision Moreau tried to push aside a pile of cloth so she could search more clearly.
"Did you ever see my mother wearing a furry jacket in a dark brown color?" she asked seriously.
"Dark brown like the color of your hair?"
Instead of offering an answer. Her stepfather questioned back. Moreau never thought Abihirt would tower so close. The man was only a short distance behind. She could feel how their bodies occasionally intersected. Over time Moreau would become accustomed to the firm and slightly hard texture, even the long flowing hair seemed to want the added sensation, though in the end she was surprised to realize Abihirt seemed to be enjoying the scent of her hair silently.
"What are you doing?" Moreau asked again when they faced each other. She looked
