Knick Knack Paddy Whack [OPEN]

How he had ended up here, he had no clue -- but as the dusty-brown stallion planted his hooves on the front door and pushed it aside, he couldn't find any reason to turn back. If anything, he could reason with himself that it was for inspiration, for trying to discover some kind of new aesthetic that he had yet to come across. Padding quietly across the floor, he moved to peek his head out from behind a particular shelf -- sending a glance to the mare at the counter.

She looked familiar, for some reason. But as he studied the meticulously organized shelves and novelties along the walls, he rationalized that it made a good bit of sense, figuring that he must've seen her around town at some point in time. Still, he'd never bothered to get her name; but her personal life wasn't his business, anyway.

After another moment or two of browsing, Marver halted in his tracks.  Upon a particular stand sat something awfully beautiful; a Fabergé-inspired trinket egg, shell glittering with a dainty, semi-luminescent texture. As he carefully approached its pedestal, careful to not make any particularly bold movements, he gingerly lifted a hoof to pop its latch; widening his eyes as a tiny cluster of silver snowflakes on a thick poker of wire sprang into view. The surface of the egg had been decorated in swoopy, floral patterns of metal and sterling, eventually settling down into four circular prongs that held the entire contraption upright.

It was gorgeous. Despite the price tag (expensive, but not devastatingly so; surpsing, for something of this quality -- it must not've been genuine, he figured), the stallion moved to gently cup the egg in the crook of his foreleg, letting the thumb of his wing hover underneath it as he approached the register.

"Good morning," he greeted, putting his foreleg to his mouth to stifle a yawn after he set the precious item down and onto the counter top. He wasn't sure how eager the mare was for conversation, but figured that a small greeting was better than saying nothing at all.

As he surveyed her and the space surrounding her, he blinked. A  small set of snow globes rested on the edge of the counter, and in truth, he thought them to be much more beautiful than the egg that he'd found -- not that he'd abandon it, but still, he was curious. For them to be by the shopkeep, they had to be special.

"Those globes. Are they for sale?"

At her greeting, he smiled -- and at Pivot's curiosity, he felt a quiet chuckle rise from the back of his throat. It'd been a long while since he'd seen a dog, let alone one so large and well-mannered. Moving to sit on his haunches as Cherry gingerly wrapped the package, he gave the mastiff a playful little croon, stopping his oogling only when he heard her speak.

"That's fine, definitely. 'S a nice lineup," he said, wings shifting to relax comfortably at his side. Her offer, however, was an interesting one -- while the globes in the shop were lovely, and he'd most likely come back for one of them in the future, getting an original piece was awfully tempting. As she pushed a particularly stunning globe towards him, he made a point to study her face. She seemed forlorn -- nostalgic, maybe? Though he wasn't entirely sure just what they meant to her, he had a feeling that they were awfully special, and that the topic might have been a tad bit touchy to approach.

"I'd love to know, if you wouldn't mind. They're pretty nice," he mused, observing the fragile glass dome without actually touching it. The castle inside glittered with a special kind of cheeriness, like the entire object had been forged from love and good will. For a pony who normally wasn't fond of winter or snow-themed decor, he had to admit that the globe itself seemed to reflect the best of the season; cozy, chilly and good-natured. Whoever made the piece obviously had some experience, and the thought of being able to obtain one himself was more pleasing than he thought it would be.