don't care much what people say, nothing's perfect anyway

Located at Fundy National Park, early afternoon. Mistfell Vale members preferred!

Cookie and Gaston are setting up a little "pop up" roadside trading opportunity. Both are in Optime form and on foot.

This is the spot, Cook announced.

He had his back to the dog carrying the bulk of their goods, and did not see his long face scowl with frustration.

This? He echoed.

Yeup. Just put that down wherever, I've gotta move some of these branches. Woops, watch yourself there, girl, the old man coddled the skunk bundled up close to his chest when he bent over and nearly spilled her out into the cold. The whole contraption only worked when it was wrapped properly, and Cook had a habit for letting things get loose. With all the clothes he was bundled up in he hardly missed the extra heat.

The poncho was the single greatest item he had ever traded for, and he delighted in its ownership in this cold weather. Beneath this garment was a two piece shirt and short-pant combination that left his hands and feet exposed to the elements. The thick scarf around his neck was nearing the end of its days, sadly, and its tattered ends flopped in the chilly breeze.

Gaston, on the other hand, was discarding the only things he had been carrying – bags – and stretched with noisy relief. He let out a rolling curse in French and looked at their supplies.

You need a horse.

Horse ain't gonna listen to an old fella like me.

Maybe a cow instead, hah?

Oh I think one cow is plenty enough, Cook chortled. He moved to the bags and pulled out a thick piece of leather. This sheet was spread over the slight slope near the road he had chosen. Atop this went another blanket. Cook pointed out big rocks around the area and had Gaston place them on the ends of his new floor. After some fussing he found a satisfactory position, and Gaston moved the bags to the center while Cook examined the area.

You think we ought to make a fire?

A fire will draw attention. That might not all be good, but I'm here, the collie said this as if his meaning was obvious. I want to rest first.

Sure, sure. I've got to figure out what's goin' on display here anyways, Cook said. He turned to the bags and bent to examine the contents of the first.

[+300] • This looked lonely so I figured I might as well snag it. Let me know if there is anything you want me to change.

Life at home was becoming both easier and more frustrating at the same time. Callisto was getting older, and with that came her own sense of independence. That didn't mean the foster mother had to be dragging the child along with her everywhere she went, especially when she had other friends and family she could be spending her time with.

The trouble that came with age were the questions, many of which Zuri was not content of sharing without expressing disdain or outright hate. How was she supposed to explain the sequence of events that led to her own birth, and to a child no less? No doubt she would get a stern talking to from her husband and certainly Saga if it were to come to that.

No, now was not the proper time.

Taking the time to focus again on her duties, or more so expanding upon them, the pale woman made her way outside the borders. Where there were times when she would have brought her horse, there was no need to travel such a distance, but it probably would have been smart of her to bring some goods along with her. It was typical of her when she made these kinds of outings to bring her goods on the chance that there would be trading to be had.

Or even better a weapon. She had the base of her own polearm prepared, but still the blade part had yet to be made. Once that was done, she would be able to properly be able to expand on the Vale on the whole.

Crimson gaze moved up along with her upright ear. She could hear the sound of two in the distance. Moving her hands to join together at her back, Zuri paced towards the voices, standing tall as she came to them. It was two males, both of them having traveled on foot like her, and setting something out not too far outside their borders.

What a great opportunity to have come upon.

Padding closer to them, she called out, "What brings you two this way?"

It wasn't terribly long before someone did come across them.

The sight of her was, admittedly, shocking. A true albino was something rare in the world, though this woman's eyes were such a bright shade of red that Cook knew at once she was something else.

An anomaly, like him.

He smiled and hailed her like they had known one another before.

Hello there! I suppose I ain't got nothin' really out on display yet, he said, mostly to himself. Rising with deliberate slowness, he stepped away from the little would-be stand to approach the stranger.

For all the thousands of times he had done this, there came a little rush of the same familiar fear – from his youth, from the violence in Portland – and as he always did Sawyer Cook swallowed it down and let his practiced persona carry him.

Cook's the name, and my associate over there is Gaston. We're travelers and traders, and that's what's got us here today. Are you from around here? We heard there was a pack somewhere in these parts but figured we'd be getting too close sooner than later, the dog said thoughtfully, stroking his mustache.