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A defiant grimace contorted the ends of the officers lips, as he thought over what Lucian said, he didn't trust him and didn't want to. But in his mind there was already a plan in the making. He smirked and nodded, "Maith go leor." He then swayed slightly, "So oak, or elsewhere?" His tone seemed almost musing but that was just a cover for the actual caution that was his tone.

"Just ask where to find the Grieving Angel, It is an occassional interest around these parts. Just know there's a sad story behind it, it's one of the things that makes it a work of art. Once you find her just go over to her left, there'll be a huge oak among the trees, you can't miss it." Seth said, the smirk still on his face, but his eyes challenging the anger in Lucian's, he was not fazed by his newfound resentment in the officer. "Also laddy, you best hold your temper. The last thing you want is someone who'd want to kill you more than me tracking you here. Your wings would sell really well on the black market."

Seth leaned back into himself and squared his shoulders, "Well, there's the awkward shape of your back as you try to hide them under that coat." Seth pointed out and then corssed his arms, "There's also a few things, scent, the awkward sound of heart and 'lungs'... tells me you're a creature of flight... We should get going, how about you go first, I don't feel I can trust you with the people here."

"Fine, just tell me where to go," Lucian said, and resumed his course, heading for the place he was going to hide in before he was forced into his current position. "The 'things' on my back could have been anything. But I admit that I do have a high lung capacity and a fast heart-beat," he said entering the next street. "So tell me, why do you and the shop owner from before have the same scent? It confuses me very much, exspecially since it didn't smell like gun-powder or oil," he questioned, hoping to get an answer from the question.

"I know your not machines. I'm talking about the base scent I smell. It's even different from mine, yet I smell it often around me on other people. But yours, yours is a different scent then mine and there's yet the same as t....," Lucian cut off his sentence where it was. He knew the answer now that he talked about it aloud. It seemed ridiculas now that he thought about it. "There's my answer, I guess," he said to himself.

A woman, past her child-birthing years, was standing at the counter reviewing the book. The most recent entry had a strikingly hurried angle and was difficult to read in addition to the amount of information squeezed in. Her medium-brown hair, streaked with grey and silver, was pulled into a tight, small, bun at the nape of her neck. Lines etched in her face spun tales of smiles and laughter, as well as work and forehead creases most often seen in motherhood.
"Hello, and welcome to my husband's shop." she said, looking up at the sound of the bell with a smile. It was only afterward that she noticed his rank, and a slight pause denoted this. "Sir."
The woman, thin and boney but not to excess as she had access to enough food and a bit extra, would stand at 5' 3"; however, the tall stool intended for Nim added a foot to Matilda and put her mother, who was currently at the counter and sitting on the stool, around 5' 10".
"My deepest regards, Sir, but my husband is out this morning and another officer has already requested his services." responded the woman. With a flicker of a glace she noted the estimated completion of that order. "Prices are set, and the same for everyone. Prices and time from depend upon what the request is, however if it is anything like the order requested by the previous officer it will likely take until Monday afternoon or Tuesday morning. Sir." Given that this was Wednesday, that might not be be the correct answer.

Meanwhile, in the back room facing a closed door Matilda had located the wire she was looking for and was using a pair of needle-nosed pliers to bend it into a similar shape as that of the original spring. The first round and a half took some time, adjusting it to be perfect. After that, the rest would be much simpler aside from minor adjustments and finishing it at the proper length.

(( Can you please edit the 'her' in your post into "him/it/the officer". I don't want others using that until the character has established for themselves that Seth is actually a woman. ))

"Really now? Most daemons find me tempting... They wouldn't hesitate to try when given the chance." The officer said, his face stoic at the mention that the daemon would destroy the one thing keeping him alive.

Seth patted the steed twice on its shoulder and then seated himself atop. "Alright then. Oh, cén t-ainm atá ort?" He said gazing into Lucians eyes, his expression indifferent but yet questioning in a way. The horse itself gave him a noteable height.