Laurel Hill Springs

Wearing what appears to be a stylishly(?)... oversized outfit, Pearline-Anne Robichaux kick-shuffles through the powdery snow of a relatively pleasant winter afternoon. She'd pulled into the convenient snak/ gas station parking spot just a smidge short and a bit out of line..?
Is that deeply unusual for most people? No, stuff happens.
For Pearl? Kinda!

See, Ms. Robichaux is extremely careful as she is both generally a "lawful good archetype" and acutely aware of how squishy humans are; even in Laurel Hill Springs a human could still die.

BUT: Safety first, as they say... No need to go inviting trouble. Usually.

She shakes that dusting of magical snow off in the warm entrance. Anyone who knows Pearl longer than the past few months would certainly note that she seems shorter and ... younger? When did she say she graduated college?
After perusing the aisles with a bottle of wine in her cart, Pearl stands ready at the counter. She does absolutely not look tall enough to be 21… Is this some young niece of Ms. Robichaux? A joke?!?

The cashier looks at her expectantly; as if it should be obvious ID must be provided. Pearl looks at the basket of peanut butter-filled eggs, eyedrops, face mask, and sweet wine then back at the cashier with confusion. What?

"Sorry. Should I move to another spot?" Her face searches the cashier's face earnestly.
"Ummmm. Do you have your ID? I- I can just get my boss. One second."

"Todd, I know, I didn't wear my mascara... But, damn." Her face is actually a bit agitated for once in her entire life. Todd looks a bit upset. This small woman was going yo yell, wasn’t she?

'Does this child know who they are impersonating????'

Todd’s boss comes out to scrutinize the young woman and the ID provided.

“Todd. Lyle. I see you every few days.”