His eyes followed the bag, the contents shaken, not stirred. “Yup,” he answered, arms still folded, crossed over his chest, warding off a variety of irritations, but doing a piss-poor job of hiding it. “Come in.” It wasn’t a welcoming glance or herald, but they’d never been on those sorts of terms. Business transactions. Trades. Bartering. Nothing else.
He turned, heading back towards his shop (the dog followed, with a sullen look at the Ascended), where the items and artifacts laid in wait, completed the evening before, no less imperfect, incapable of shunting or making defective work – even if a certain pettiness threatened to claim him. The lad grabbed hold on and held them in one hand, the other extended, waiting for the finality of the deal.
He turned, heading back towards his shop (the dog followed, with a sullen look at the Ascended), where the items and artifacts laid in wait, completed the evening before, no less imperfect, incapable of shunting or making defective work – even if a certain pettiness threatened to claim him. The lad grabbed hold on and held them in one hand, the other extended, waiting for the finality of the deal.
