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Looking up at Hekate the old woman's eyes narrowed and the calm look on her face gave way to one of almost vicious disapproval as she glared between silver dragon, silver flit, and the red head in one sweep. "That'll be 1/8th a mark for the herbs and a full mark for the large pot for you." She barked her voice cracking not too unlike a whip as she laid out the prices. Making herself busy she arranged any goods Hekate had touched though the young weyrling had been careful to lay them in the exact place she had picked them up from.

Almost instantly Devith was on alert coiling himself tight against his rider his eyes whirling a deep rich red with anger at the slight. How DARE she! He roared in his riders mind a low rumbling growl emitting from his chest that caught the booth owners attention.

"Now keep your runt in line! Should have bloody stayed in Benden. I know they can't hurt human's, but I won't have the likes of him messing up my establishment." The woman ground out, but despite her words fear flashed in the woman's eyes as Devith reared resting his front feet with surprising care and grace on the front of the booth to stare into the woman's eyes.

Do not Tempt me~ Devith hissed low and dark his teeth bared. A warm arm wrapping itself around him and gently lifting him back and urging him to the ground though broke through his thoughts and angrily he lifted his head spotting Hekate her eyes narrowed and radiating an aura that could kill even as she gave the booth owner a smile as sickly sweet as poison.

"Now there's no call for that now is there? After all Trine is happy to play host to our fellow Weyrs and their residents." Hekate replied the sincerity in her tone sounding strained as a harpers violin string even to her as Devith rumbled his anger in her mind. However it wasn't her dragon's anger that made Hekate want to flip the booths table with a quick jerk of her ankle.

No it was the actual genuine hurt her dragon had felt at the woman's insult and the little flashes of white pain in Devith's eyes. "However since you insist on insulting my dragon I believe I'll take my business elsewhere before I do something we'd both regret." She added and giving Devith a stern look drew herself and him away the silver stalking moodily beside her.

We should have done something mine. We should have! How dare she! I am the best! I am. . .aren't I Mine? Devith rumbled and roared though his tone gave way to a soft insecure whisper as he shifted on his feet looking up to Hekate for support.

Bending on one knee Hekate wrapped her arms gently around her dragons neck drawing him against her. Of course you are. She murmered soft and loving in her dragon's mind staying there a moment longer before finally reassure Devith shifted his sullenness over.

Of course we are. It seems your plan though did not work Mine. Devith crooned as Hekate shook her head.

"No you see Devith the game has just begun. I'm sure we can find it cheaper at some other booth. We just have to keep looking." Hekate explained patting her dragons head and allowing Baron to come alight on her shoulder once more as the brown was want to do.

"Now my dear friends~ We hunt!" Hekate joked with a predatory gleam in her eyes as she stalked along the booths her silver shadow close at hand to peer at what she was doing.

Hekate and Devith both turned at once, one from the call and the second from the sense of dread from her lifemate. Not that he had anything to feel guilty about Devith reminded himself as Courath trotted up to him the silver puffing himself up as best he could though the effect was rather lost on his green sister. He never was particularly good at intimidating the green and the fact he rarely wanted too might have played into that.

She started it Courath. I was polite enough not to finish it. Devith rumbled back his eyes rolling stormclouds of red and orange as his tail lashed about his feet catching Hekate about the ankle possessively and. . .while the silver might not admit it for reassurance.

"I'm fine Dizzian. Everything ok. One of the stall holders didn't take too much of a shine to us and the crackdusted fool got bold enough to insult Devith. We left before things could get too heated." Hekate explained stroking Devith's eyeridges soothingly warming their connection with her love. He hadn't done anything wrong and in truth had he not done what he had it was likely she would have done something instead and she didn't have any genetic rules stopping her from say knicking the stall holders coffer when she wasn't looking.

"The lass is right Miss. Saw the whole thing myself." Came a warm rough voice as a man in his late 50's with tan skin marked with wood stain and varnish where the leather front of his work vest didn't cover leaned over the edge of the nearby woodwork booth and gave the girls and their dragons a smile.

Hekate turned and blinked at him for a moment before giving him a nod. "My thanks for speaking up for me sir." She replied and even Devith gave a low rumble.

"Aye it be no problem lass. Old hidebound wherry said things that aught not to be said and is more the fool for doin it. Had no right ta go and make the rest of us from Benden look as if we're ungrateful. Silly of her really not giving yea a good look lass. You've got a bit of Benden red in yea yourself dontcha? Hair that red don't come from no where else~" The stallowner added though his eyes softened as Hekate stiffened keeping a steady grip on Devith as if the dragon might get ripped away.

"My mother was Northern. My father and I are southern." She replied with some finality as Devith leaned into her leg reassuringly and the stallholder nodded knowingly.

"Aye that you are lass. Aye that you are." He murmered with a small warm grin and motioned to his stall. "Meant no insult by it. Have a look around see if their be anything you might like you two." The man replied and somewhat reluctantly Hekate nodded stepping up to the booth to look over the wares with a sharp eye. She paused however on a closed box glancing to the man for permission before fingering it open to find a set of soft dragon scrub brushes, the smooth wood of the handles engraved with little pictures of dragons frolicking in the water.

"Like what yea see?" The stallholder asked with a smile. "They were ordered by a wingleader a while back, journeyman made, but despite the varnish on them being a bit off in color the lad who did em shows promise. The customer however never came back for em and I've been trying to unload em ever since. They take up a bit too much room among my cargo and what am I to do with a set of dragon scrub brushes?" The stallholder replied shrugging his big shoulder and chuckling.

Running a gentle finger over the brush Hekate thought back remembering seeing Z'fer scrubbing poor Calanoth with just a rag. . .he probably still was being so busy organizing wings and the other lot. "How much?" She asked looking up eyes bright ready to haggle, but was caught by surprise.

"Originally 1 mark. For you however I'll knock down to 1/2 a mark and no less and you can take it and be in good health." The stallholder replied picking up the brush kit in it's box and handing it to Hekate as she nodded recognizing a good deal when she found one and fished out half a mark for the man paying him with a smile before turning to Dizzian.

"Where to next?" She asked with a crook of her head and a grin. "I need to find some oil still and maybe a messenger harness for one of my flits."

Devith let out a short snort and shook his head. Well he didn't feel his temper was better served elsewhere. After all soon if they got into trouble they could just leave. . .but he'd have to find a way to take Courath with him and that would be a lot of trouble and planning and best to just leave all that to the Hekate to plot out for now. Shifting he fell in step beside his sibling his own gait graceful and powerful his head held high like the king he was.

At her friends words Hekate smiled eyeing Dizzian's rather large stack of books. "It seems you haven't had any trouble in 'seeing' things." Hekate teased with a grin as the two meandered down the stalls dragons at their sides.

Stopping by a small leather booth she fingered a few of the wares eyeing a decent flit messenger harness she looked to the owner of the stall eyes bright for the challenge. "How much for the harness?" She called the middle-aged woman turning to face her. "It's a mark." The woman barked out and the game was a foot.

Hekate looked credulous turning the harness this way and that. "A mark for this? Why the hides discolored and it's been restitched! A marks plain robbery for this ma'am! It's worth a half mark at most!" She called feigning her insult at the price as the stall owner put her hands on her hips and frowned.

"Been stitched through the same holes so it'll hold wear and tear and the things adjustable. The coloration has no bearing on how it holds up! Half a marks as good as robbery as well!" The woman bantered back as the two haggled neither giving an edge.

"Well I don't think anyone will settle for a harness like this for a full mark not when there are prettier sturdier work about that didn't neat to be restitched because a apprentice used the wrong thread." Hekate tossed back at the woman as the stollholder considered her words.

"One half a mark and a fourth and I'll go not a bit lower." The stallholder said holding her hand out as Hekate took it.

"Sold then." Hekate replied shelling out her marks and tucking the harness away. Stepping from the stall Hekate waited till they were away from sight and grinned at Dizzian. "Next I just need some oil for the flits."

"Oh don't go all shy on me Dizzian you deserve them. I was just teasing you." Hekate joked nudging her friend warmly as the strolled the stalls. The next herb one they approached was a bit friendlier and Hekate bantered with him a bit, but was disappointing to find he wasn't likely to budge on his price. She was however starting to get tired of her errands and wanted to shop for herself and Devith a little. So reluctantly she shook hands and paid the price of half a mark taking her pot of oil.

"OK now the fun shopping can begin." She added with a grin turning to her friend.

Kindra needed her hands to investigate the goods at each of the stalls, so N'mol shifted his grip to an arm around her waist as she began systematically working her way through the stalls.

When Kindra stayed a longer amount of time with the jewelry than at the other stalls, N'mol took notice of it. However, the sudden tears startled him and the arm around her waist tightened in comfort and concern. Since Kindra didn't address what had suddenly sparked the show of emotion, N'mol saved his questions and simply let Kindra wipe the water away and

He made a note of the jewels she had cried on, smiled at the booth owner who smiled back in sympathy and understanding (and then picked up a cloth to more thoroughly clean the necklace Kindra had cried on), and then moved on with Kindra. The next booth seemed to hold no bad memories for her, thankfully, but N'mol's arm stayed tight around her, even when she responded favorably to the inquiry about dancing. It seemed to lift whatever darkness had fallen over her mood, and N'mol found it easier to smile at her.

"Then food, dancing, maybe picking up an item or two to help with making our stay more comfortable here if you see something you like. Considering making something?" He reached out to run a hand over a bolt of soft linen.

"There are plenty of stalls. If you see something you really like, get it, but if not let's investigate the other stalls before you make any purchases. You may see something you like elsewhere, too," N'mol counseled. "And we can always come back later. I think I see a fine pair of boots at the next stall I'd like to look at."

Not that he needed new boots just yet, but from here they looked like a fine piece of workmanship and N'mol didn't want to leave Kindra on her own to go investigate them. Even if he didn't need them now, he might later, and the leather stalls always had something useful for riders. Weaver stalls and the jewelry portions of Smith stalls tended not to have much to his interest.

Kindra listened to N'mol and nodded, it was probably better to see if she couldn't get something similar cheaper elsewhere first, she had a number of marks but it wouldn't last forever. She looked over at the booth he mentioned, then past it and gasped.... ooooh!! "N'mol... i'm just going to go to that next stall over while you look at the boots..." she said, leaving his side without another word, or letting him talk her out of it, or into waiting... the dress might have been snapped up by then and hurrying over to the Weaver's stall, fingering the pretty purple dress. "This.... this is simply wonderful... i wouldn't have to do much to it either... " she said to herself, not realising she'd said it out loud. She looked up at the weaver with an excited expression, "Oh... please, what's your best price on the dress?" she asked, trying to keep from getting too excited, after all she might not be able to afford it "I came from Benden.... lost everything" she added, hoping it might get the woman to lower whatever price she had on it.

[Carltis]

"Time for me to go then," Carltis grinned to Rochelle, "it'll be something to actually be proud of if I manage to win this one." His opponent was taller than he was by a considerable margin, older than he was too but still in his prime and from the little he'd seen of the match with Siata the man was skilled too. Beating him would indeed be satisfying; call it avenging a friend's loss, oh yes and rubbing a bronze rider's face in the dirt. That would be lovely.

Rolling his shoulders Carltis stepped into the ring and looked his opponent up and down calculatingly. Keeping his weight light on his feet his gave a crooked grin and nodded at the wingleader. "Ready when you are." He was actually feeling less venomous towards the man than his smug thought of a moment ago might indicate; perhaps the gather atmosphere was managing to eat through his acid and spikes, or perhaps it was the chance for a really good scrap without the prospect of having it broken up and or getting punished for it.

((1 +2 = 3))