Lyon had to be, apart from Tuscany, her favorite place in the entire world. Not that she had been to every great city in the world, but from what she had seen Lyon was definitely the top of her list. The shopping and the open space... it was all fantastic, once you got past the eyesore of that stupid statue in the middle of the way. Iris frequented Place Bellacour and always had, and the statue of Louis XIV had always bothered her immensely. Often, she would stand before it, glaring up at the man on his horse, nose crinkled as the afternoon sun formed a long shadow behind her, shopping bags in both hands.
Despite being inhuman, she still had plenty of human desires. Silk scarves and perfumes were a few to name, and the reason she had gone out on this particularly hot day. Because of the weather, she was dressed down a bit. While she opted for leather - preferably her leather trenchcoat - during the cooler seasons and the even colder nights, Iris did own a summer wardrobe that consisted almost entirely of little sundresses of all imaginable patterns. Today was a day for one of those dresses; reaching to about her knees, the white material was very flowy and loose below the belted waist, the top rather tight - it was a mystery for the solving as to if she had dared a corset, though the extra layer would prove to be quite a nuisance on such a warm day. Her already substantial height was boosted several inches by her heels, muscled calves flexed constantly to make up for the last few days that had been spent at home just resting. It often struck her how tired she got, and when those waves hit her she would spend entire weekends sleeping, nestled deep in the covers of the tiny bed she was allotted at the pack's headquarters. The quilts and blankets were her saving grace; they kept her from going insane, having to share a room with all of these other people after living alone for so long.
Half of her hair was pulled back into a band, the rest of it tumbling past her shoulders in soft waves that were a bit to dry to be considered perfect, though she had never desired perfect hair, just red hair. Very little makeup graced her face anymore, for Iris found it to be an utter waste of time that could be spent shopping for more silk scarves.
Currently, she had a dozen of them. Long ones, square ones, black ones, floral printed ones... an entire dozen or more, all tucked away in little boxes and stacked inside one of the many bags currently held in her hands. There was a pleasant smile on her face as she made her way down the sidewalk, swinging the bags gaily at her sides. There was no reason to wallow in her condition, afterall. So long as nobody decided they didn't like the smell of her and decide to, you know, attack, she'd be fine and normal and human for as long as she felt the need to be.
As if a last addition to her obvious good mood, the familiar sound of Iris' humming began to project past her lips, lips that were curved into a smile despite being slightly pressed together to help the hum sound more like a hum and not some odd gargle. She really was the epitome of the femme in her little dress with that pretty half-smile and the song she was making up off the top of her head. A cruel twist of fate made her really a monster, but Iris wasn't one to allow pessimism to ruin a sunny day like this.
Coming to a little café, she slowed her pace, head tipping to the side as she eyed the charming tables with their umbrellas - umbrellas that would offer shade from the sun for a while. The decision was easy, and within a minute she was comfortably seated at one of those tables, bags stowed under the table. After placing her order for a simple glass of icewater, she leaned her back against the back of the delicate chair and sighed contentedly, closing her eyes for a second to let the blood flow back to her feet so they could stop aching.