Some shops are closing now as the sun goes down over the Bazaar. Others, desperate to glean the last few shekels out of furry purses, stay open. Vendors of hot food have not begun to discount their prices yet. The rule is, never lose a quarter piece for the sun's waning.

Wyn enters the Bazaar from the Port to the east. She scans the crowd for recognizable faces, and sees only a blur.

Wyn wufs to herself, "Ack. It's so noisy. It didn't sound this way to me before I found my tongue."

Wyn watches a juggler catch and toss brightly colored beanbags. She laughs and claps when he drops them.

Arkold has been in the bazaar for quite some time now, spending his time walking amongst the shops and shoppers looking for that special 'deal'. He is currently standing in front of a booth chatting with its keeper, or rather arguing, about fruit.

The performer grimaces with annoyance at the gray wolf. "I didn't mean to do that," he says.

Wyn says, "I wasn't clapping 'cause you dropped them. I'm impressed you kept them in the air at all."

Wyn swishes her tail and smiles.

The juggler moves away to another part of the crowd.

Wyn looks at bolts of cloth. She watches a woman testing the count of the thread, holding the cloth up against the fading light to see how much comes through.

Arkold grumbles and gives the shopkeeper a shekel in exchange for a piece of fruit and he walks off to mingle with the crowd.

Wyn says, "What are you doing?"

The woman looks at Wyn incredulously. "This calico is 10 shekels a yard. At that price, I should see light through the cloth. As you can see, the weave is close. No light gets through."

Wyn says, "It's a good deal, then?"

The woman says, "Ask your servants, Milady. They're paid to be nice to you."

Wyn's muzzle falls open.

The woman buys four yards of cloth, measured neck to fingertip across the seller's body. She turns and leaves without giving the wolf a second glance.

Arkold chews on his dinner while proceeding amongst the crowd only spot a familiar face, he pauses to be sure it is who he thinks it is.

Wyn flikfliks her ears.

Wyn says to the shopkeeper, "I didn't mean to send her scurrying."

Arkold peers at the female wolf for a moment commenting to himself, "Is not that… why… " He begins walking towards her.

The shopkeeper looks Wyn over for a purse. Seeing none, she does not waste time on a reply. She walks out in front of the booth and extols the virtues of her linens to the passersby.

Wyn swishes her tail when she sees a familiar wolf approaching. She waves!

Arkold smiles and waves back calling out, "Wyn! There you are!" He walks up to her past the merchant.

Wyn pauses, uncertain how to greet the wolf properly. She smiles. "Hi, Arkold. I hope you weren't waiting too long."

Arkold smiles and shakes his head while saying with an air of laughter, "Oh no, I come to the bazaar quite often miss Wyn, I would be here anyway."

Wyn says, "You spend time here?"

Wyn says, "How do you _talk_ to these people? I understand the words, but we're not speaking the same language _at all_."

Arkold nods, "Very much, in fact… The deals here are… a steal." he says trying to keep down a grin.

The shopkeeper bows ingratiatingly to Arkold and shows him some very fine weaves in burgandy and white behind Wyn's back. She waggles her brow.

Arkold nods, "I expect as an Exile you would be… how should I say, lacking in the knowledge in some of our more… interesting languages." he says while waving off the shopkeeper.

Wyn thinks . o O { Stealing is the only way _I'm_ going to get anything. I don't think I want to explain my take on the 'five finger discount' to those Inquisitors at a trial. Good thing I'm not in the buying mood. }

The shopkeeper persists. "This weave is soft, gentle as a caress. Normally this goes for 20 shekels a yard. But for you, a special price," she purrs. "50 shekels for three yards. Enough for a proper dress."

Arkold smiles and just looks at Wyn, not knowing what to say to her… until he is interrupted by the shopkeeper again, he replies, "Can you not see I am busy with the Lady Wyn? Off to your wares shopkeeper."

Wyn shifts her feet self-consciously.

Wyn thinks . o O { Drat. It's the wrong season. I wish I was shedding right now. The wind's going just the right way. }

The shopkeeper moves a few feet away and tries her lines on another mark. "… but for you, a special price," she says. The rest of her words are swallowed up in the background.

Arkold turns to Wyn paying no more mind to the shopkeeper, "How have you liked your day in the Bazaar? I trust you have had no problems?" he asks.

Wyn says, "It's a learning experience."

Wyn says, "Perhaps we should talk somewhere else. We are right in front of her stall."

Arkold smiles, "Would you like to look around further then?" he nods. "Yes, let us head over there," he says while pointing to a spot in the shade.

Wyn sits down crosslegged in the shade, her back against the tree.

Arkold sits across from Wyn, smiling at her with his ears perked forward.

A Jupani page in Temple colors comes into view. The young wolf wanders among the stalls.

Arkold finally manages to say something, "So… how long have you been here?" he asks.

Wyn says, "Rephidim?"

Arkold nods.

Wyn thinks. "A few months. In the Temple, a few days only," she says.

Arkold hmms, "I never did like the Temple… And seeing you're an Exile, I hope it has not been too rough for you?"

Wyn says, "I'd change some things if I was in charge. On the whole it's been better than I expected, I guess."

Wyn says, "I have free movement right now, and that's a lot more than I had planned on. They even taught me the language."

Wyn thinks . o O { I thought it was supposed to cost money to be processed. I wasn't charged a thing. Perhaps I ought not to mention that. }

Wyn says, "Are they normally hard on us? I think they were pleasant to Envoy. Come to think of it, they were good to Ben'zhamin, too."

Wyn frowns, thinking of Zephyr.

Arkold nods and looks around to be sure no one is listening. He speaks softly, "Do be careful. The Temple and their minions are not to be trusted if one can help it… and yes they can be hard on Exiles. That's why I worry about you."

Wyn says, "They still have a friend of mine. I'm worried about him. I don't even know where they've put him. They won't answer my questions."

Arkold nods and speaks quietly, and with an air of disgust, "Well those Temple members on there high pedestals will tell you nothing… as far as they are concerned, Lady Wyn, you are beneath them."

Wyn says, "I wish I could find out. It's the not knowing that is hard."

Wyn smiles. "I am beneath them. I'm only a citizen by default."

Arkold nods softly, "I wish I could help you, I really do… But I have no influence in the Temple, and my father would never listen to me." he says.

Wyn says, "Maybe you can help anyway. Can you get me a list of importers who might deal in slaves?"

Arkold hmms and thinks, "Well… we do not usually deal in slaves… but yes, perhaps I can get one for you." he says.

Wyn swishes her tail. "I'll be very grateful if you can," she wufs.

Arkold takes Wyn's paw in his. "I shall try my best, Lady Wyn," he says with a smile.

Wyn swishes her tail.

Arkold swishes his tail as well, "Anything else you would like of me?" he asks.

Wyn says, "I would love to ask you more about the wufs, the Jupani. But it's getting dark, and I must be back at the Temple before they close the doors."

Arkold nods and stands, offering you a paw, "Might I walk you back to the Temple then?" he asks.

Wyn says, "Thank you fur asking."

Wyn nods, dusting herself off as she stands.

Arkold lifts Wyn to her feet, and the two walk off into the sunset towards the temple.