it's not what it looks like
"Sorry I'm late!" Because yeah, he's real late. Good job, Ianto.
The merchant rumbles along the banks in the Wishing Wagon, his coppery hair unruly from sleep, his shirt buttoned up wrong. Once he's close enough to Juniper and the chosen building, he brings the wagon to a halt and hops down, stumbling just once before straightening up and offering her a flamboyant bow.
"Just tell me where you need me and I'll do what I can," he announces, flashing her a golden grin for her trouble. "I'll even do it for free, given the nature of the task. It can never be bad to have others coming to visit us, no?" Perhaps he's the only one who thinks that though. The Greatwood has always been relatively secretive and exclusive to the Fae.
The merchant rumbles along the banks in the Wishing Wagon, his coppery hair unruly from sleep, his shirt buttoned up wrong. Once he's close enough to Juniper and the chosen building, he brings the wagon to a halt and hops down, stumbling just once before straightening up and offering her a flamboyant bow.
"Just tell me where you need me and I'll do what I can," he announces, flashing her a golden grin for her trouble. "I'll even do it for free, given the nature of the task. It can never be bad to have others coming to visit us, no?" Perhaps he's the only one who thinks that though. The Greatwood has always been relatively secretive and exclusive to the Fae.
