She did not like the cold at all. It always brought upon her a lethargy of sorts, where eyelids would droop and movements would become languid. In winter time her need for fresh air tended to conflict with her need for warmth, so a quick walk through the park usually sufficed for the former necessity. If she was out for too long, she found that she ended up falling asleep on her feet, or curling up on any nearby flat surface. This was the city, and such things were not only frowned upon, but dangerous. So steps were brisk as low-heeled ankle boots clicked on the cement sidewalk.

Rana had the bad habit of overdressing for these walks, so passionate was her disdain of the cold. The simple and quite casual denim jeans and white turtleneck she had thrown on were not really her style, but were quite warm and served their purpose. However, the thing that was a little much was the long tan coat had been donned, featuring faux fur along the edges, with the hem dangling around her knees. Oh, and the beige cotton gloves, and the white and blue-striped scarf, and the black hat. One might think she was a tourist of sorts, not used to the weather -- that, and tourists traditionally seemed to dress different from the locals -- but she honestly could not help it. But she'd be back inside soon, she hoped.

Not as soon as she hoped, however. Legs seemed to feel a bit heavy, and head a bit fuzzy, so she stumbled idly over to a wooden bench that was lit by a lonely street lap. The hat was removed, and short, auburn-brown hair was smoothed out in one gloved hand as she caught her breath, breath that came out in little cloudy puffs. In her idleness, dark brown eyes scanned the quiet, dark area; it was mere six thirty post-meridian, and not late enough to promise solitude. Her observations were short-lived though, and she soon focused on getting back to her apartment. A hand reached out to the blank spot next to her to find that her hat had fallen to the ground, and, with a sigh, she bent forwards to retrieve it.

A pale, spiderlike hand reached out and picked up the hat before her fingers could close on it. The hand, which was of course attached to a person - a tallish, gangly, bespectacled young man with pitch-black, spiky hair, wearing a coat and a faint grin - held out the hat for Rana to take.

"Yours, I think?"

Norman didn't look as easygoing as his tone of voice implied. He moved jerkily, even awkwardly, and in short bursts. It wasn't Rana making him uneasy - he was always like this, especially after dark. He knew full well what kind of strange people came out when the sun went down. He hadn't included Rana in that category, though. She fit into the 'pretty stranger who dropped her hat' category.
And the 'pretty stranger who he thought he might like to know better but probably had no chance with' subcategory.

She had been so convinced that she was alone that mere appearance of a hand provoked a jerky response, outright pulling back and drawing her arms to her chest and watching him with wide eyes. She sat poised like that for a moment, a snake waiting to strike, before she realized that he meant absolutely no harm and she looked crazy. Muscles were uncoiled as she accepted her hat, wondering just how crazy she looked as she placed it on her head.

"Thank you." The pair of words sounded awkward and stiff, and so in a quick attempt to erase them, she added, "Pleasant night, isn't it?" It would have been rude of her to grab her hat and dash off, and though her attitude frequently gave that impression, she liked to pretend she wasn't rude at all.

"You're welcome," Norm said shortly, straightening up and stuffing his hands in his coat pockets. Her reaction, while startling, had the odd effect of making Norm relax a little. It was a lot like finding out that a wild animal was as scared of him as he was of it, only Rana wasn't an animal and Norm wasn't (really) scared of her.

He took a quick glance up at the sky, then looked back at Rana.
"Yeah,... it is kind of nice," he agreed, "Hey, um... Are you from around here?"

"Yes, an apartment just nearby." The words came too quickly (they always did), making her sound a cross between over-eager and aggressive towards questions. "What about you?" Even though there was no skin showing, gloved hands rubbed her wrists as though trying to stimulate warmth. The cheap glow of the lamplight offered no warmth, and the occasional breeze made her teeth chatter. Oh, the endeavors the ego stimulates!

In (another) attempt not to be rude, she moved over on the bench to make room. It was a little funny how she had to do consciously what most people did automatically.

"Oh."
He'd meant the question differently than she'd answered it, but he didn't bother too much over it. Norm shifted his weight to his right foot, accidentally demonstrating how off-balance he felt. "Me?... Apartment, but not so near. I meant, do you live here, or are you just visiting, but-" he gave a sick sort of smile as he realized he was babbling, "- I think that's already been answered. Heh,..."

She promptly remembered she looked like a color-blind tourist, and felt the need to explain her style of dress. Not honestly, of course, because the truth was quite unbelievable. "Oh. I just moved here, you see. I'm not used to the cold." A sheepish grin was forced, and she made a mental note to coordinate her outfits so it didn't look like she got dressed in the dark. She wasn't used to lying, but thought her fib sounded completely believable, albeit very, very lame.

While Norm had a sharp eye for the unusual, he was hopeless at detecting lies. Besides, he had no reason not to believe her.
"Oh, so that's it." His smile became slightly more genuine, and he risked taking the spot on the bench that she'd freed up for him. He kept well out of her personal space, however - mainly to keep her out of his. "Are you from down south, then? I bet the weather's nice there this time of year."

She realized now that she was going to have to full-out lie here, instead of stretching the truth here and there. Had he simply accepted her answer, she could have gracefully changed the subject. Now she had to conjure up a history. Didn't sound too hard, though.

"Oh, the summers are very hot, and the winters are ever so slightly cool. Balmly, even." She was reminded of how cold she really was and shivered in a woeful sort of manner. "Very different from the weather here. I chose a bad time to move." What would he ask next? A specific place? What her old home was like? Did she miss it? And how peculiar that, unlike most gentlemen, he had not offered to walk her home and struck up conversation there. Yes... Very peculiar indeed.

'Down south' was really all the information Norm needed or wanted. Any further questions on location were just unnecessary - he didn't mean to interrogate her. He was just trying to make conversation.

"Yeah, I'll say you did," he nodded, "It can be miserable if you're not prepared for it, or even if you are. But at least you'll get plenty of chances to complain about the weather. Once a week at least."

A low laugh was offered at that, rubbing her arms again and straining to keep her eyes open. Snakes became very lethargic in the cold, and she was slowly feeling a stronger and stronger need to lay down, or close her eyes, or both. Her attention more focused on staying conscious than what to say, she began to ramble a bit, in hopes that her declining awareness would not be noticed.

"Oh, I intend to do that. And stay inside on all snowy days, and complain about the slush, so on and so forth." There was a lull in conversation for a moment before she blundered forwards. "Oh, I'm Rana by the way. It's a pleasure to meet you." And without waiting for a response, she stood up quite quickly and said, "Mind if we walk towards my apartment? It's very cold." She did not look like she was going to wait for an answer.

"I'm Norman. Pleased to meet you too," he replied, watching her. For a moment he considered staying where he was and letting her go on her own, but the way she'd asked him to walk with her was practically an invitation. It would be impolite to turn it down. He stood, giving a little nod.

"Sure, no problem. Don't want you to freeze to death before you get your first chance to curse out the weather," Norm smirked. It wasn't often he tried to be funny - mostly he was just sarcastic.

She shivered again before saying something, her shaking more pronounce this time. Her conversation had delayed her return to her home. It would take a significant amount of time before she was back to being normal, or at least, Rana-normal. "Oh, I intend to curse it out." She would be delighted when summer returned again.

Her fear of fainting or falling asleep in the street was increasing as time passed, and she hoped talking would serve as prevention. And so, contrary to her nature -- which ranged from moody silence to violent outbursts -- she was babbling like a brook and didn't quite show signs of stopping.

"So-o-o, what's there to do around here? Movies, clubs, shops, beaches, cafés, bookstores? Heard of any good books lately? Movies?" She knew the answers to all her questions. She couldn't feel her fingers.

Norm decided that Rana was unnerving him a little, but chalked it up to nerves.

"All of the above. Except the beach isn't much good. I wouldn't go there if I were you, it's not really... safe," he frowned, looking grim. "But the mall and those other places, they're okay. Um,.. I read 'Teacher Man',... good book, that one. Haven't seen any movies, I don't really pay attention to anything on a screen. How about you?"

"I've been rather... busy." She was usually busy working at the restaurant, cooking and cursing and so forth. However, she was "new here", and that was not a plausible reason to be busy. "Moving in and so forth." She shivered again, resisting the urge to walk a bit faster. Even if she had just moved in here, she was far too eager to get inside. Norm would be thinking that she had lived in the desert if she kept this up.

"Um. What was the book about?" She was only half listening, actually yawning the 'out' in 'about'. So very, very tired. Feeling a little... woozy. She nibbled her bottom lip absently, her pace actually beginning to slow a bit instead of quickening. Almost there though. Across the street and... up the stairs...

He nodded - moving was indeed a busy job. He'd done it himself at least half a dozen times in his life. The worst had been moving away from home. The easiest, ironically, had been that time when his apartment had caught fire and he'd had very little to take with him.

"It's sort of a biography,... it's about this guy who came from Ireland and taught in, um, high schools for years and years. It's really good," he said, vaguely aware that Rana wasn't really listening. He reached out and hesitantly tapped her on the shoulder. "Um,... are you alright...?"