OOC/WC
Galileo tried his best to listen to what the man had to say, but his gaze was captured by the ever present horse. He eyed up the sheathed short sword with interest, seeing as it was something he was pondering trading for. A snigger escaped the male's maw when Inrik had finished speaking. 'You may as well cart all of your wares to where we stand here and join our pack'. Galileo turned around to look upon his packlands. 'This is Cercatori d'Arte'. He turned around smiling, 'We are a pack based on various arts, though they're are other ranks for those not as creative'.
Galileo frowned softly, 'The peices of armor you speak of, tell me about them'. This was another thing he was interested in, not for particularly active purposes, but if he ever did end up high in any rankings, he would need something to show the amount of effort he was willing to give his pack. Picking up the sword and looking over it, unsheating it and running a finger across it's edge, Galileo murmured to himself before looking up to the male. 'What would you be looking for for the sword?'
A sudden thought came across Galileo, did this male travel from Halifax? If so, it would be polite to offer the man a drink. And his horse. Though Galileo hated, and feared, any creature with hooves and a mane, he would not shun the male's steed.
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