Tweedle Press, and Tweddle Ness

[Preston Bolton]

The morning was frigid and it nipped at Preston Bolton's nose as he climbed from the carriage. A look of distaste at the heap of filthy snow piled up on the side of the road. He minded his good boots, not wanting to get them filthy, and adjusted his dark jacket. His dark green douvet  peaking though around his dark gray scarf. It was lightly snowing, despite the fact spring was surely on the horizon, and he looked up at the sky, scowling. He didn't like the cold, and he surely didn't like being cold. The sooner he got into the store the better. 

"Watch your step Ness, there's filthy, slushy puddles everywhere." He warned, holding a hand out to help his sister down from the carriage. If he didn't warn her, she'd probably end up slipping and falling into said filthy puddle and dirtying her skirts, which would result in her shrieking like a toddler throwing a tantrum and then proceeding to whine. He really didn't want to hear about it. 

He Glancing up and down the street, it wasn't that busy. Something he was a bit grumpy about as there were fewer people for him and Vanessa to mock, but they'd make do he supposed. He caught movement,  and his hazel eyes lazily looked over, before they alighted with glee. "Oh, Oh Nessa look at this." He remarked. His voice was hushed, but showed his evident glee. "The state of it..." He said quietly with a small whistle as his face broke out in a grin. 

Vanessa Bolton

[Vanessa Bolton]

Nessa did as her brother told her, being careful as she stepped down from the carriage. She'd opted for a dark dress to avoid showing any damage from a wet hem, but even so, she wasn't about to do anything stupid. She moved her hand from Preston's hand o take his arm once she was safely on the ground and they were ready to walk.

She followed his gaze to a woman just leaving the hat shop, and she barely managed to contain a squeal of laughter. Good lord. The woman was not only wearing the most hideous shade of dirty yellow that Vanessa had ever seen, her new hat looked as if someone had crossbred a raccoon and an ostrich.

"Oh dear, someone seems to have neglected to teach her that a feather should be an accent. Do you think they glued the entire ostrich's tail to that monstrosity?"