Right next door, behind a stall crammed floor-to-ceiling with merchandise, a hare fuming with rage, slammed his fist against a wooden crate so hard that a few coins tumbled to the ground.
“Unbearable? She calls *me* unbearable?!” He rounded the corner, his ears quivering with indignation, and brandished a hastily scribbled parchment scroll in your direction. “Don’t believe a single word from that arrogant, fur-collared philosopher over there! ‘Warming tavern fires’ and ‘stories’ -pah! Do you know what makes tavern fires burn? Seasoned wood! And who delivers that wood, by the way, right on time, well dryed, and with a markup of a measly three percent? *Me!*”
He crossed his arms over his chest, seething. “And you know what, my friend? Dear Kiana just sits there, smiling mysteriously and spending half an hour polishing a single bundle of herbs, while her customers are left in a state of total confusion, lost in a tangle of her rediculous ‘adventures’ inside her shop! That’s not commerce, that’s romanticism, that’s bad for business! Let me let you in on a big secret: when you buy from her, you’re paying for the ‘aura’ and the cozy feeling she bestows upon you with those sweet eyes and that gentle smile. HA, ‘bestows’! She just wants you to grin right this second! With me, you know exactly what you’re getting: you’re paying for tangible goods! You want a souvenir? I’ve got seventeen different kinds, sorted alphabetically by price, weight, and durability. But don’t even think about asking for a bulk discount… This is business!” He snorts contemptuously in Kiana’s direction, then leans toward you, conspiratorial. “A quick deal, that’s the true currency, my friend. She acts as if efficiency were some kind of contagious disease. Listen closely, my traveling friend:
The Mist Forest is no place for dreamers waiting for the perfect, moonlit moment. He who hesitates, loses! So, take a look at the wares and make your choice. We are in a merchant’s shop, after all!” The hare flicks a dismissive gesture toward Kiana and turns away, his head held high.
“Such audacity, to disparage the honorable trade of us hares… I shall lodge a complaint with ‘the Creator.’ Yes, indeed, that is exactly what I will do.”