The man offered to take her reins, and a shadow of doubt and wariness passed over her expression. But it faded and her much perkier one reappeared. She nodded her head, and handed the man the horse's reins. Ducky would follow the man, though she knew that there was nothing to fear here. Traders got nowhere by stealing from clients. And the man would get her goods soon enough. "Behave, my sweet Duck," she said to her mare, who eyed her then turned her attention back to the ground where everything wasn't confusing. She would have continued prattling on about how the handsome gentleman was going to take care of her well, when she bit it back and decided it was far too sweet even for her tastes.
A fence surrounded a chicken coup and it reeked of the fowl. Isabella turned up her nose at but could not help admire the roosters. She knew that Salsola had a chicken, a mean thing, but no rooster. Maybe a few fertilized eggs would make more hens for the laying. A steady supply of eggs would be good for everyone, and a steady crop of slaughter-ready chickens was good for a summer with less hoofed meat in storage. "Perhaps a cock?" she asked, wondering if her goods were enough for the animals she desired. But the man gestured to the box for the cats, where several more tumbled with each other. She glanced at the kitten, then at her packs. Surely she had something worthwhile.
A hand on the cat, the woman pulled open the two bags with a free hand. The cat squirmed in her grasp but Isabella was firm. "If I can, I'd like to keep it. Perhaps I have enough for a chicken or two, and the cat?" she asked sweetly, gesturing to her bags. "I have some floral oils, a bag of tobacco, some trinkets, and some pine pitch. Is any of this enough?" Isabella was happy to part with all of it, since there was plenty more to be found.
Photo courtesy of john curley. Table by Kitty.
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