a peddler's smile, a swindler's lie

Sparrow · 05-24-2012, 06:53 PM

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Word Count → 553 :: ooc here

She became rattled at the many questions that the man shot at her, and found that she was unable to keep up with most of them. His questions made no sense as to why ask about them—if they did not have a market, they didn’t have a market, and Sparrow found it simple as that. She did not overanalyze like Zeitgeist had, mostly because she did not care much for what he yearned for. “I cannot answer that,” she murmured honestly, finding her gaze flickering to the ground for a moment only to return back up, “We… I don’t know. I did not come from a place like that, nothing like that at all. I wasn’t even born in a pack. My family was alone.” Sparrow curtly cut off, not knowing if she wanted to get any more personal with the dog. With a small sigh, she continued, “Look, if you want a market, why not make one? Maybe others would like the idea and come along.”

Again, she did not understand his need, her empathy going so far. He was from a whole other world, and only a few words that had reached their complete understanding could be given by the mottled woman. She did understand his want, the need for something, but nothing beyond that.
For a moment, a smile played on delicate lips. “Do you underestimate my abilities? I may not be the finest crafter around, but I make sure I do my best—the cloaks would be as if they were for my personal use. But… if you feel uncertain, I shall make them in five months’ time. I may even find finer furs, if you are willing to wait that long if you fancy apparel.” She was not considering looks when she first thought out the clothing, practicality being the priority. But if he wanted more working time, she could be a bit more creative with the project, and by the sounds of where he came from, may appreciate that.

She watched as he gestured to his own article of clothing, and nodded carefully. “Yes… Something like that was in my mind.” She wondered for a moment how she would create such a thing without a model to make sure it fit. But, she noticed as she glanced at the bird that he was about the same size as her sister’s bird, and smiled a bit crookedly at the thought of fitting Stark, though as a latter thought she decided that any of Inferni crows could work. Maybe she could tempt them with the meat that the furs would provide, she thought, and mentally nodded when she decided upon that matter.

Sparrow frowned a bit, though not from sadness, just from thought, as she wondered over what she could get in return. By the sounds of it, anything within reason could be granted—“whatever your heart should be content itself with”—and found that all the choices were daunting. But, she did not want her answer to be long awaited on, so she thought hard, and after about thirty seconds, spoke. “If it is possible… I wish for you to bring me a bicycle.” She assumed that the man knew what she was talking about, so waited patiently to see if he would agree with her terms.

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