Surprises in the Making {Caravan}

[Rowana]

G'tor was feeling quite please with himself as he made his way to the caravan by the river. Since the cut off of tithed food, few people had become ill of late and no one else had died. It meant more work, but that was a small price to pay for peace of mind. He himself was barely recovered from his own near death experience. He had E'rro and Saeo to thank for that, which was one of the reasons he was here.

The Weaver's cart was his first stop. He took a moment to look over the various wares for sale, but was disappointed not to find what he was looking for. "Excuse me, sir," he stopped the merchant politely. "I don't suppose you sell any cloth gloves?"

[nightingale]

An older woman sitting inside the cart glanced up from the pillow she was embroidering to offer G'tor a welcoming smile. Her dark hair was pulled back from her face in a loose bundle, and while that face wasn't particularly atttractive, it did have a sense of honesty about it.

"Cloth gloves ye say? Can't say we have any of those in stock -are ye lookin' the buy 'em fer yerself or somebody else?"

She put a few final stiches into her needlework before setting it aside, giving the young rider her full attantion.

[Rowana]

"Someone else," he admitted, realizing he wasn't quite sure what size to get. He could make a fair guess though. He was a little disappointed that they didn't have any. He might be able to ask for a pair to be made, but custom work was costly and he didn't have a whole lot of marks. It didn't hurt to ask, he supposed. "I don't suppose you could make a pair? And how much would that cost?"

[nightingale]

The cartwoman nipped at her lower lip, staring thoughtfully at a pile of embroidered scarves displayed near the front of the cart as she made her calculations.

"Hmmm...how does two marks sound to ye?"

She asked after a moment of contemplation, reaching behind her stool and producing a whicker basket filled with sewing materials. She plopped it down on the counter in front of her and began thumbing methodically through a stack of assorted scraps of fabric.

"I have red, orange, purple...an a lil bit a black. If ye want ‘em embroidered it’ll be 1/8 mark extra.”

[Rowana]

G'tor smiled happily. "Sounds reasonable." He was pretty sure he could afford that. But what color? He honestly had no idea which one would be best. "Black, I think, if you have enough." At least it wouldn't show dirt as easily. Another moments thought. Embroidery would be neat, but he wasn't sure if the receiver would appreciate it. And he wanted them to be practical. "About my size I think," he held out his hand. "And plain is fine. Thank you!"

He paused and considered the clothes for a moment and had another burst of inspiration. "Actually, if you don't mind," he added apologetically. "Could I get a second pair in purple? Smaller than the first."

[nightingale]

The woman nodded, and tugged a piece of black silk from her sewing basket. She lay it carefully out on the table before her, then grasped the wrist attached to G’tor’s extended hand with a strength that belied her small stature, pressing his palm flat against the dark fabric. Skillfully wielding a piece of chalk, she make a few markings to show the approximate size of his hand, then released him.

"Y'll have to give me 'bout three hours ta finish 'em. 'Bout how much smaller'd ye say? Child, woman or smaller man?"

She kept her eyes focused on her work as she spoke, laying a piece of violet fabric alongside the black and copying the same set of markings onto it's surface.

[Rowana]

"A young woman," G'tor explained, hoping that the seamstress was well enough at her craft to adjust the size. He also hoped they would fit their intendeds. This was a long shot, but he was pretty sure it was a good one.

While he waited for the gloves to finish, G'tor wandered around through the other carts. Star poked her head out of her shirt, occasionally sending images that usually equated to whether something was edible. G'tor chuckled at each new question and patter her fondly while he explained that jewelry was not food. Finally he came to a cart selling eggs of all shapes and sizes. Most were labeled and G'tor looked wistfully at the fire lizard eggs, but he knew he didn't have enough money.

Some of the eggs were unmarked, however, and G'tor examined them curiously. Was it a guessing game. He raised his eyes to catch the merchants attention and pointed at the mystery eggs. "What are these?"

[nightingale]

The young man behind the counter smiled, folding his arms across his chest and shrugging.

"No clue sir. The eggs get mixed up every so often and these are the ones we're not sure about. Could be flitters, could be birds...heck, they could be breakfast if you want, but five marks is a mighty high price for a scrambled egg."

The basket he gestured to was full of eggs, varying in size, colour and shape. Most were about the size of a chicken's egg, but there were a few larger and smaller ones. Picking a flitter out of this bunch was a gamble to be sure.

[Rowana]

G'tor couldn't help being curious. True, they were expensive if all he ended up getting was a chick, but it might be fun just the same. "What do you think, Star," he glanced down at his 'mandyr. Star blinked up at him and sent an inquiry. "No, silly," he laughed. "You can't eat it. We want it to hatch!" More images in response to that and a somewhat disgruntled feeling. G'tor was hers and hers alone, with a small exception for Ruskeath. Why did he need another? G'tor patter her with assurance. "Don't worry, love. You'll always be special."

"One random egg, please," G'tor said cheerfully handing over the marks. This was going to be fun! And if it didn't hatch at all, Star could always eat it for a treat.