"I don't know! What's cool? What's that pointy dark thing over there?" she asks, pointing at the Scott Monument. "Is it cool?"
"Souvenir shop?" asks Miranda dryly, pointing at a place with plaid scarves prominently for sale.
Jenny has cornered an older couple walking past them and is asking them questions eagerly, while Emma stands beside her looking like she wants to melt in the floor. One answer in particular makes her perk up, and she waves at the group. "There's a cathedral!" she enthuses. "Come on, Emma, let's go, I wanna seeeeee. Later!"
"Well, um, looks like we'll see you all in a bit," she says, smiling after Jenny with fond resignation. "At least it's closer than the zoo!" she mouths at the others as she's dragged off.
"Done!" Alli says immediately. "I am buying the most obnoxiously tourist shit I can find and it will be great."
"Souvenir shop it is. Annoy all the Scottish kids with a wrong plaid or something."
Karen looks over her shoulder at Miranda and sticks very close to Vivian, looking nervously at cars.
She does catch the nervous looks at the cars, though. "You okay?"
"Yeah, those things are just scary. And they don't smell very nice. That's them, right?"
"I was scared of brooms at first, if it helps," Vivian says encouragingly. "They go so fast, and you could just- fall right off!"
"Yeah, but if somebody else hits you on a broom all you get hit with is a broom and a person. Not a... that."
"The cars will obey the lights," Vivian says, more firmly than she really feels. "Just follow me and the lights, okay?"
The memorial is a little farther than the cathedral, but not by much. Vivian tries to stick to paths by parks when she can, to reduce the traffic.
Vivian looks around. This part of the path is nice. There are trees, there is shade. No cars. "Are... are you sure everything's okay?"
"No, not really. Unless you find a potion to turn people widdershins. That'd be grand."
That was not at all what Vivian was expecting. Surprised, she stutters, "A potion to- wait, what?"
"Ugh, I'm sure it's impossible," groans Karen. "And she wouldn't take it, I bet! Unless she would. I don't know."
Vivian knows she shouldn't ask. There is no way having this question answered will end well. Karen is definitely not talking about her, and doesn't that just make her feel like her lungs are shriveling inside her chest? But she forces herself to breathe, and to ask the question. "Who wouldn't?"