You start rattling out questions and comments about the bags currently hanging up.
“Can I get a closer look at those backpacks? Do you have anything less flashy? How much storage space do they have? Do they work for Gremlins with limbs-”
“Stop! Please. Slow down. Who even are you?” They ask, their eyes glancing at your side with a strange look again.
“Ah, dear Fweb,” Ronge says, patting you on the head, “I know that you must be excited after entering a place as grand as our dear friend Losh's, but please! Try to contain yourself!”
Losh glanced at Ronge, “Ronge, please don't be so patronizing to your new friend. Now then,” they glance at your side again, “These aren't backpacks, I have those in the back, these are leg and tail pouches, and other kinds of auxiliary bags. Judging by you being here like that, I assume that you are lacking in the backpack department. Tell me a color and I'll see what I have for you,” you realize that they keep looking at the side you have the bit on, but that can't be right, no one else can see those… right? “I imagine you'll want to customize your backpack yourself, so I'll give you a plain one. If you really want one, I can give you a pouch as well, but only one. I don't know you and don't think you'll be sticking around long anyway.”
That last sentence strikes you as strange, but suddenly you have a better understanding of the look they keep giving you. You still can't tell though, is it fear… or pity?