In his hands was what looked to be a decently sized parcel wrapped in paper and bound tightly with cord and as he held it protectively he could not help but marvel at the Stacks. While he came here often when the Seran settled close to Bruunhold but not close enough to aggrivate the Seventen, for the remainder of the year they were largely away from the town of Galdori learning an thus away from the chaotic mishmash of streets and alleys, where every other building seemed to be a contrast of the other and nooks and crannys galore that his hunting eye thought them good places to watch for prey.
These same places often had various shops of various qualities, many of them questionable, some looking like they ought be demolished, and some that were such tourist baits the Maro was tempted to head towards them were it not for the parcel in hand keeping him focused. His boot trodded upon the cobblestone paths before he reached his destionation, an establishment he was told was called "Bib's Butchery", it was a creative name Maro was sure but his interest was not in the place but so much as the inhabitants within.
The sign had said open, and so the Wick entered as if he'd been there time and again, smiling at someone who looked as if their day went to the pits by the mere sight of him.
"Hello there, Benny!"
The middle-aged male had that beleaguered about him, premature baldness marking his age with only the hair around the sides of his cranium clinging to him as if it were their final lifeline. Maro was certain if they were shaved it would be their final life upon Benny's head period.
"Maro, I see your without your leash today"
The corner of Maro's lips twitched at that, he knew precisely which leash the butcher meant. He approached the counter, raising up the parcel and shaking it a bit like a tantalizing treat.
"Come now Benny, is that the way you speak with a business partner holding wares to trade?"
"One, your not my business partnet, that would be your uncle and those other wicks who mediate it. Two, I didn't forget the cowbell incident"
Maro barely held back a wince as he kept that smile plastered on his face, what is with people choosing to remember incidents from long ago? Granted it was exactly a year ago but it was a long year.
"And Maro, gentleman that he is, apologized."
That scoff told him all what Benny thought of that; thought Maro wasn't certain if he was scoffing at the apology or the gentleman part of the sentence.
"Regardless, Maro comes baring prime cuts given to him by his uncle as a gesture of goodwill! "
The wick placed the package before the Butcher, who rolled his eyes and pulled out a small knife, cutting the cord to unwrap the paper to unveil some cuts of meat, their red hue indicating their freshness as if caught and cut very recently.
"This is venisonl, though whoever cut this did clockin' unevenly"
Maro was not about to dignify that with a remark, considering he was the one who cut that particualr peace of venskon off a deer he hunted himself.
"Yes, one of the family is still learning admittedly, he's normally pretty good but sometime's he rushes himself"
Benny gave him a look, and Maro assumed he was suspicious of who might that be. The butched flipped the venison over, examining its coloration and despite the uneven cuts gave it a satisfied nod.
"I'm expectin' more like this'll come, got some folks who'd pay prettily for quality like this?"
Maro nodded with a bright smile, more genuine than ever this time as he placed a hand on his chest.
"Maro promises...."
Another scoff.
"....and his uncle promises that we'll get ya some prime cuts to peddle about, so long as you give us the usual share"
Benny nodded, wrapping the meat back up and tying it with a fresh cord, Maro had no doubts that particular one was going to be heading towards the Butcher's dinner table this night,
It seemed to Maro that business was done now, so he may as well head on out.....