Unnamed

You walk into the boutique, expecting to meet with the rumored-to-be elegant and -- while somewhat prissy -- gentle-natured woman that ran it. However, upon setting foot inside, it was evident that the sand piled up around the trellis windows out front mirrored the commotion scuttling around the inside.

"Get yer butt back here!" came a shout from across some racks adorning beige grain-laden dresses. Upon closer inspection, you could see tufts of cream and brown-colored hair wafting all around them. "So help me God, I will make a fur coat outta you if ya don't stop already!"

Before you knew what was happening, a decent-sized yet clearly more agile for its own good cat-shaped creature bounded past you, paws patting upon the wooden flooring. It wove around your legs as the formally-dressed dragon ran up to you, leaning down and curving around you hopelessly. In the blink of an eye, the animal -- now clearly covered in dainty blue fabric and bows -- leapt into a heap of discarded shirts and various other scraps of fabric.

In defeat, Tiffany stood back up again, panting, and only then did she seem to notice you. "Oh!" She exclaimed, quickly righting her posture and attempting to smooth down the front of her dress. "My, hello! I... didn't see ya there," she said tiredly, and you could hear the rustling of the animal having fun in Tiffany's stock to your left. Exhaustedly, she grimaced, hands leaving her bustle to wave in the air in annoyance.

"I'm so sorry, darlin', but my store is closed until this here situation is sorted. This rascal broke outta the darn zoo, somehow, and it's been makin' a mess of my dresses! There's fur all over them -- a situation I've never had ta deal with, since, yaknow... dragons mostly have scales, an' all, and it's too hot here for Tundras -- and sand imbedded in all of my lace and velvet. I have no idea how ta fix this; I had no idea it was even goin' ta happen," she sighed exasperatedly, claws clicking anxiously along the floor as she trotted around, grabbing a broom from against the wall and beginning to sweep absentmindedly. "I was just designin' a new pattern and outta nowhere, my windows were blasted with sand so hard I was sure they'd be scratched up by the enda' the storm, and then this critter flew in and I haven't been able ta get any work done since."

"I just..." she said, pausing, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "I need ta get this thing outta here so I can go get myself a cold drink at the saloon. Please, if you wouldn't mind, leave me to this -- I don't wantya getting sand in yer eyes as I try to shoo this thing out," she said, and out of respect -- and slight fear of, well, getting sand in your eyes -- you turned to leave. As you met the door, you heard a soft groan of frustration coming from behind you, and words with a sweet-sounding lilt followed. "If you end up going to the saloon yourself, please do me a nice little favor and tell that deadbeat Kelton that he owes me some payments for the triplets, okay? Thanks, sweetheart!"

As you left, you heard nothing but crashes and shouts and meows.