Even though light armor wasn't really all that cumbersome on it's own, added with Masamune's weight that seems to be growing by the hour, it was warm. Every so often throughout Sephiroth's wandering through the Festival of Light he came to a stop. To take a drink of water which didn't touch the sides, to casually glance about the stands nearest to him in case there might be something to catch his eye. Spencer pushed his glasses up his stubby nose as the moggle flopped down on the nearest ledge to him as Sephiroth took another 'break', the moogle already had picked up enough to know not to try and persuade his companion to participate in any games. Perhaps he had been best assigned to Sephiroth after all, who knew what would have happened to his more bubbly cousins by now if he hadn't.

The crack of a gun drew Sephiroth's attention to the shooting gallery like someone turning on a light switch. He raised an eyebrow to Spencer, and then swept closer of his own volition, leaving the moogle there to rest for a few minutes.

It was just as Sho were lining up another shot to take at the oddly resemblant white-haired target in the back that Sephiroth found it also and it drew instantly a deep frown. Just what was this supposed to be, some kind of joke? At least the resemblance were somewhat less for now, since Sephiroth wasn't in his usual black-and-silver clothing.

"Hmph."

It might be a distracting sound to have heard from behind as Sho were about to pull the trigger.