The young woman gasped as he approached, and he halted, shifting his weight uncertainly to one foot. He'd never been met with fear before; but she seemed to calm down soon enough, and it seemed she wasn't scared of him, just...someone he could have been. Wary now, and somewhat concerned, he came closer, trying to smile more warmly. It was difficult, though, as he wasn't the most cuddly person; she seemed calmer, though, realizing he wasn't going to hurt her, so he relaxed more into his usual position, his shoulders slumping and his hands sliding into his pockets. It was winter, now, but he still wore shorts; they allowed for easier movement, and with the work he usually did, that was essential.
At her answer, he raised an eyebrow, and then peered more closely at her furs, looking for quality. He knew Old Man Walters down the lane would take furs, no matter how tattered or poorly skinned, and use them for his own purposes. Drakien went there himself, on occasion, when no one was hiring or he'd finished work for the day. Scratching the back of his head curiously, he tilted his head critically and narrowed his eyes. "There's the old man down the street, with the white beard. He'll take anything, and gives food in return." Drakien offered, and then rubbed at his hand on his pants, making sure it wasn't dirty before taking hers and introducing himself. "Drakien. Draien Lusk. Have you been here long, Amy? Market's pretty small, I haven't seen you around before."[/html]