Post by Shifting Sands on Sept 8, 2014 23:52:34 GMT -5
"Of course."
| With her order in mind, Shifting Sands grasped the unpatterned bolt and set it back in its place; the other, he turned ninety degrees and started unwrapping with expert care. He hmmmed and ear-twitched and pondered over the cloth, lining it up carefully on the glass counter with a scrutinizing eye. Once he had everything apparently where he wanted it, his head disappeared behind the counter to retrieve something else. What he came back with looked like a pair of rolled up....something. Snakes, sausages--tubes filled with sand, and made of a slightly dirty, patterned cloth. Whatever it was, he had obviously had them for a long time.
| There use would eventually become clear as he set them perpendicular to the cloth, on either side of what would be his cutting line. Another quick dip down showed the outlandish stallion with a round knife in his mouth, the blade a rigid piece of semicircular bronze and handle padded with a similar slightly dirty fabric like the sand weights. Hooves on the wooden edge of the counter, he used his long neck to his advantage as he drew the knife across. It was almost a marvel in itself that he managed not to cut off a stray piece of mane. The unbound hair of course dropped straight forward when he leaned over, obscuring most of his features in a pink-and-black tent while he sliced. Both he and his mane were fine by the end of it, and by the time Dixie had found her payment the merchant's odds and ends would be put away, and the final touches being put on the twine-tied fold of cloth.
"That will be seventy-five bits," he concluded (when did that pipe get back in his mouth??), "And if you happen to return within three days' time, I shall honor the bundle price for the balm, leaving it an additional five bits rather than ten."
| With her order in mind, Shifting Sands grasped the unpatterned bolt and set it back in its place; the other, he turned ninety degrees and started unwrapping with expert care. He hmmmed and ear-twitched and pondered over the cloth, lining it up carefully on the glass counter with a scrutinizing eye. Once he had everything apparently where he wanted it, his head disappeared behind the counter to retrieve something else. What he came back with looked like a pair of rolled up....something. Snakes, sausages--tubes filled with sand, and made of a slightly dirty, patterned cloth. Whatever it was, he had obviously had them for a long time.
| There use would eventually become clear as he set them perpendicular to the cloth, on either side of what would be his cutting line. Another quick dip down showed the outlandish stallion with a round knife in his mouth, the blade a rigid piece of semicircular bronze and handle padded with a similar slightly dirty fabric like the sand weights. Hooves on the wooden edge of the counter, he used his long neck to his advantage as he drew the knife across. It was almost a marvel in itself that he managed not to cut off a stray piece of mane. The unbound hair of course dropped straight forward when he leaned over, obscuring most of his features in a pink-and-black tent while he sliced. Both he and his mane were fine by the end of it, and by the time Dixie had found her payment the merchant's odds and ends would be put away, and the final touches being put on the twine-tied fold of cloth.
"That will be seventy-five bits," he concluded (when did that pipe get back in his mouth??), "And if you happen to return within three days' time, I shall honor the bundle price for the balm, leaving it an additional five bits rather than ten."
