oh, it doesn't show signs of stopping

Loren sent an amusement pulse to Jigano. [say]Somehow, I don’t think the gods are in the water supply. Or at least, I really really hope not. Can you imagine?[/say] At the bard's question, the summoner tilted his head, confused. However, understanding dawned and he let agreement spill through their bond.

Being on the receiving end of someone else's magic was a strange sensation for the Launceleyn. [say]Well. Joke's on them, since I've discovered that emotions are a source of strength, not a sign of weakness.[/say] There was a great deal of certainty in Loren's thoughts about that.

Padding along, it didn't take them long to stumble upon the merchant who'd lost the birds. He settled down, fully content to let the white-haired man handle this interaction. However, his senses were peeled for any sign of trouble, though this time he was careful to keep his conscious mind in control of his body and his actions. No more haring (well, honey badgering) off after an errant ningo.

"I'd rather not, you're right!" he agreed with a theatrical shudder that held a little honesty in it. The gods meddled enough as it was, even if it was usually at the behest of their mortal followers. It still led to things like Roana trying to kill Sam and other such unfortunate trades for power. He shook off the turn in mood, however, reaching out to Heal Loren with his magic: a sense of heat and silent music flowing into the honey badger to soothe away his scrapes and sprains and ningo-scratches. "There, good as new!" the bard declared when they were done.

"As long as you don't lose yourself to things like rage or despair. Or the urge to chase fancy chickens," he added, lightening the conversation again with a bit of teasing. "But otherwise, yes. I've found the same to be true as well. A fierce desire to protect, to love, to share magic based in joy... it makes a difference, and for the better."

Loren's nose led them back to the market and through the crowd. Luckily the merchant was still tying down the last of the birds he'd been able to recover, and was relieved to see them bringing a final ningo home to roost (even if it would only be until it was sold for meat and feathers). The man was suspicious of the red on the bird's feathers until he had a chance to look it over himself and come to the reluctant conclusion that the blood didn't belong to the bird (a lie, but Jigano didn't correct him). Wary though he was of the Southlanders, he was still gruffly grateful for the return of his merchandise, and offered the bard (and his animal companion?) a discount should he wish to purchase birds in the future. Jigano accepted graciously and they parted ways, leaving bard and badger free to continue their explorations.

[Finished]