Narcissa plucked the bag from his outstretched grasp, a warm smile sat fleetingly in place before she composed herself. "Oh I remember this! My Great Grandmother made it. It’s meant to look different depending on the wearer's mood. The beads reflect the feelings inside." She slung the bag over her shoulder and they watched the beads change subtly from the random selection of colours they were previously to a shimmering, wistful gold. Each bead luminescent as it shined.