The spoke witch had gathered together the suitable funds to buy something called a kenser, a slow-moving but strong creature that looked well able to tow herself, her mother and their home. Once the kenser was acquired, there were other matters to attend to, supplies that had to be stocked up while they were in this good hub of trade. Shopping around was the best thing to do and while it took some doing, she found most of what she needed. She also learned of an individual by the name of Eon who was supposed to stock certain items that were less readily available in the average market: drugs. Sure, the medicinal sort interested her to a degree - although she preferred the plants she was used to - but the recreational sort... well, the girl certainly wasn't adverse to a hit of this or that every so often. Certain things enhanced her visions though, added a new level to the experience, especially while joined to the mona, and she wanted what she could get.
The Mug witch carried a special cargo with her as she wound through streets, heading for the meeting place. Her mother had been left with the kint and their animals, the girl pursuing this errand solo. When she reached the place, she looked around openly, not wholly certain how this was supposed to work, the tavern she found herself in loud and bustling. She clutched her little package to her as she approached the bar, dropping a particular phrase that would apparently bring this dealer to her, before she found herself a table.
Chroven Hearts could be grown here, she knew that, and they weren't really recreational but they were useful. They were Mugrobi grown, the tubers nicely swelled and she suspected them to be quite potent. She hoped that they were valuable enough to trade for what she wanted. Even then, she was worried that the man would try to cheat her; she was a hopeless negotiator so in truth, it wouldn't be difficult. One look at her would leave little illusions about what she was, the decidedly wild appearance of her hair, her dress and her multitude of jewellery marking her as a wick. He might easily assume that she was too uncivilised to know better or realising that she was on the wilder side, a spoke, he might think she was shrewd by default. She hoped he thought the latter.
She'd laid down a hat for a drink, which she sat nursing, observing those around her with interest. When she finally spotted a man who was looking her way and in earshot, she assumed it was him. One way to find out.
"Junta! You the kov I'm lookin'?" she asked, letting the Tek words fall easily from her tongue without a thought. Would he understand her? Would she have to watch her words or as a criminal would he grasp her meanings without little or no hassle. "If you're the toft I want, we talk trade, oes? Not here though, ye chen? I'll go where you want go, just, ent it?"