Since Tulani and the Eeees left to go find clothes for winged types, Arkold and Ravenia where left to their own devices. This didn't last for long, as the dark-skinned human simply returned to the Inn and got Agatha. Even though the pony hadn't spent much time in the town of Gromit previously, she was at least willing to lead them, thus saving Arkold the hassle of having to ask for directions.

After a bit of wandering, the trio eventually came across the Market District, full of shops both upscale and common. In a stroke of genius by the city planners, cafes and other comestible stores separated each of the apparel stores. Pausing in front of a women's clothing shop set between a tobacconist and a confectionery store, Agatha turned to Arkold and said, "Raven and I will check this place out. Can you wait for us?"

Glancing between the three stores, Arkold nods. "Eh, yeah. I'll be aroun' 'ere, eh," he replies. He sounds distracted, and for good reason: he still clearly remembers Raven's hint. The old wolf has found himself suddenly taking an interest in the human woman, and in her teasing offer. Maybe there's somethin' there, he considers, rubbing his muzzle as he looks around.

"Okay, just don't wander off too far," Agatha says, then goes into the store with Ravenia, who smiles to Arkold over her shoulder before being swallowed up by the store.

Definitely somethin' there, Arkold agrees with himself. A human woman … Huh. I like her ears. His gaze descends as Ravenia walks off, and he nods to himself, now. I like her butt, too. Grinning, he turns and makes his way towards the candy shop.

Inside the shop, even Arkold's abused nose tingles a little bit. Racks of sweats of various descriptions abound, even candied meats and sugarcoated jerky. There are chocolate confections (notably different from the Xocholatl of the Himaat) as well as ones made from fruits. There are even a few treats made from the 'fairy lace' harvested from the Pantsu River.

A Khatta girl behind the counter smiles to the big Jupani, and asks, "Can I help you, sir?"

"Yeah, I'm here for, uh … " The Jupani glances at the selection, then points. "Chocolates. The box kind, with some room on the bottom or top. Got, eh, more to put in there. It's a gift."

"Oh, well, what sorts of chocolates would you like?" the feline asks, and moves over to the chocolates area. "We've got solid chocolates, and ones with fillings."

Arkold resist the urge to check out the woman's bottom. I'm here for Raven, he reminds himself. "Eh, maybe a bit of both? Mix it up? Can't go wrong with variety, she's bound to like somethin' in there," he answers.

"Well, if it's for a lady, it would help to know which species she is," the saleswoman says, still smiling.

So much for bein' subtle about this. "She's uh, human. Pointy-eared variety? Dark skin? Beautiful." He smiles. He hadn't thought much of Ravenia back when he first met her. She was certainly attractive, but also a little too mysterious. Since that day, she's grown on Arkold. Her easy manner and similar tastes have steadily caught his eye, and then the woman said what she said in the Godsmith. That got his gears turning. "This high," he says, holding a hand to demonstrate Ravenia's size.

The girl nods, and moves on to show Arkold box sizes. "How big of a box do you want?" she asks, holding up one example that's about a foot long and half as wide – big enough for a dozen chocolates.

"Think I can get a bit bigger box, but fill it 'alf way? I got some other items to fill it with," Arkold replies.

"Well, do you have them with you?" the girl asks, looking over Arkold for any bags or boxes he might be carrying.

Arkold's ears perk, and he glances at the door. "Oh, uh … maybe I should get them first, eh? Mind if I come back?"

"Oh no, we like repeat customers," the girl says, tail swishing.

"Be right back then," Arkold promises. With that, he heads for the tobacco shop.

The smoke shop is quite different from the candy store. It's darker, with walls and ceiling made of smoke-stained wood. There are racks of pipes, dozens of different kinds of tobacco and other smoking herbs – as well as flavor or aroma additives. And there are displays of cigars as well, in about as much variety as there were chocolates next door.

A middle-aged Eeee with a goatee hangs upside-down behind the counter, smoking a special inverted pipe, and just nods to Arkold as he enters.

It's been a long time since Arkold had a cigar, but he still remembers some of the basics. "Hey, Ba- … eh, hey bat, I could use some 'elp in pickin' out a gift for a lady friend," he tells the shopkeeper.

"Well, that's what I'm here for, mostly," the Eeee says, grinning. "Is she a pipe smoker, or does she prefer rolled?"

"Rolled, I'm thinkin'. I swear she said 'cigars,'" the Jupani replies. He approaches the counter and leans on it, looking at the selection. "Found some old cigars on the road, an' she took to 'em like a Khattan to Zolk."

The Eeee shuffles along the bar he's hanging from, until he's over part of the counter with some slender-looking cigars. "These blends here seem popular with the womenfolk," the man says. "Smaller than the usual rolls, so they can carry 'em more discretely, and with softer flavors. This lady a carnivore?"

"Eh … " Arkold ponders the question. Humans, to his experience, seem to eat just about everything despite having relatively tiny mouths. Rather than guess it, he just asks, "She's human, so wha'do'ya think?"

"Ah, she can handle a wider variety then," the Eeee says, and points to several different types of cigar. "These slender black ones are popular with sorts that like vampires, have almost a fresh leather smell to them, heavy flavor with a big of apple to it. The pink ones are fruitier, with lots of stuff added. More like potpourri than tobacco. Then there's these browns, they're herbal, with appetite curbing effects, so I'm told."

"And there's straight Sylvanian tobacco as well, in different sizes," the tobacconist notes.

Arkold also tries to focus while considering the variety of cigars Ravenia can handle. Heh, I really am a dirty old man, he admits to himself. "Okay. Gimme, ah … a few of the leather types, one of them fruity ones, and several of the basic type. I'm no' abou' to 'and a woman appetite curbin' ones, that's jus' askin' for it," Arkold says.

"If she has a favorite food or drink, we can roll some custom blends as well," the Eeee notes, even as he's plucking the selections and setting them atop the counter.

"Don' really 'ave time for that, unless you can do it right now," the wolf replies. "We won' be in town long, an' I got to make my move now – t'marra might be too late."

"Only takes a few minutes," the Eeee says, and points to the rack of additives behind Arkold. "Just gander at those, and see if anything jumps at you." The rack is covered with pouches of dried materials, including hickory and different wood types, blood, chocolate, Rughrat meat, and a few different types of liqueurs and fruits as well.

"Huh." Arkold wanders over to the tobacco, then sniffs at them. "I like this liqueur one," he remarks, nodding. "Kind 'o romantic, which is what I'm hopin' for. The wood's soothin' … might wan' to avoid the blood, no offence, eh? … An' chocolate. Can't go wrong with chocolate. Gimme a few chocolate ones, and the liqueurs. 'Ell, we could even mix the two. I bet she'd like liqueur-chocolate." I bet she'd like the real thing, too. Better keep that in mind.

"Ah, that's a popular desert cigar, we have those pre-rolled," the bat notes, and snatches up a few cigars from a different tray. "Got strawberry-chocolate liqueur and mint liqueur ready too if you think she'd like those."

"Eh, not too many now. Two of them strawberry, an' that'll be that. I still 'ave to fit them all in the same box," the wolf explains.

"We've got lots of boxes," the Eeee says, and sorts the selections so far, removing a few here and there to make it an even dozen. "Would you like a lighter or matches to go with them?" he asks.

"I'm good. Wouldn't 'ave made it this far as an adventurer if I couldn't light a fire, eh?" Arkold chuckles, then shakes his head. "I'll be puttin' them at the bottom of a candy box, sort of a special surprise, you know?"

"Ah, a special occasion then?" the shopkeeper asks, and moves his hand away from the boxes and scoots over to where some rolls of paper are kept instead. "Did you want them wrapped up in gift paper?"

"Yeah, just in case the chocolates get on 'em. The paper ought an' protect them," the wolf answers. "An' yeah, it kind o' is a special occasion."

The Eeee rolls out a bit of colorful, if thin, paper, and arranges the cigars on it so that they'll fit easily into a box of chocolates – since none of them are over six inches long, the bundle of a dozen only comes to about six inches square when wrapped.

"Goin' to need to think o' somethin' to fill the rest o' the bottom up," Arkold muses to himself. Nodding, he walks to where the Eeee is preparing the cigars and asks, "'Ow much to I owe you?"

The Eeee counts on his fingers, then says, "20 shekels, I reckon." That's about a fifth of the price one might expect on Rephidim.

Sylvania's got its benefits, the wolf considers with comfort. After all, he may just end up living out here, once he retires from the road. "Fair 'nuff." He pulls out his coinpurse, something he keeps well tucked away in his coat, and pulls out the coins. "There y'are." The coins are placed with a clatter, and Arkold is suddenly glad Tulani has been covering their expenses. Otherwise, Arkold might have to dig in to his real money.

The Eeee scoops the coins into a drawer, and passes the wrapped bundle to Arkold. "Hope these work out for ya, brother," the Eeee adds with a wink.

"Me, too. Thanks a bunch," the wolf replies. He grins back, nods his head, then heads back for the candy shop.

The candy-Khatta looks up and smiles when Arkold returns. "Got your gift?" she asks.

"You got it, cute-stuff," Arkold replies, reflex kicking in. He holds the package where the woman can see it, then nods his heads towards the chocolates. "I'm thinkin' of puttin' these cigars on the bottom, but I'm still workin' out what else to include. Let's jus' do the chocolates an' I'll think on it," he informs her.

The Khatta holds her hand out for the package, asking, "May I?"

Arkold's ears perk a bit, but he nods. "Sure, jus' be careful with 'em. I don' 'ave time to get another set done. I 'ave no idea when the ladies'll be ready," he answers. He actually does have an idea when they'll be ready: late. But he's not about to mention that to the woman.

The Khatta sniffs at the package, then hands it back. "Fancy cigars. I think some of our rum chocolates would go good with those. And we've got fairy lace too, that can be folded up to fit the rest of the space. What do you think?" she asks.

"Fairy lace?" Arkold looks around, then spots the river-spawned lingerie and suddenly grins widely. "Eh, yeah! That'd be perfect." He just stands there, grinning, until the expectant look on the feline's face prompts him to add, "Oh, uh, rum sounds great," distractedly.

"Why don't you look through our lace collection while I pick out some chocolates then?" the girl asks, gesturing to the hanging 'rack' of vegetable lingerie, all in white, red or black colors.

"Don't mind if I do … " Arkold makes his way over to the lingerie section, and rubs his muzzle. "Lessee. Ravenia's dark, with white hair. Kind of like Bats, actually." The idea of Alptraum in one of these outfits makes Arkold's ears twitch, as if his brain momentarily shorted out. He clears his throat, and reaches for a white teddy of lace. Looks a bit innocent. Not a big fan 'o innocence. Still, nice contrast. He picks up a black number of the same style, and compares them.

Both of the pieces seem to shine a bit in the light, giving away that they aren't normal fabric (or even Zolk, which at least shines in the pattern of the weave). It's also a bit difficult to judge the size, since they are naturally elastic – although one that was too small would certainly be a snug fit. The gaps and holes between the 'lace' at least seem uniform, but it's impossible to tell just what would be covered and what would be exposed if someone actually wore one.

"So, 'ow much would one o' these cover?" Arkold inquires absently. He's perfectly willing to be wrong about size; a snug fit would be interesting. The slight gloss is also something Arkold finds attractive. It would offset itself with Ravenia's dull skin, and the black would mesh well with her darkness. Then again, Arkold thinks, red's the color of passion. It's a difficult decision, really.

"You mean if someone actually wore one of them?" the Khatta asks, looking over to Arkold from the rack of chocolates. "Well, nobody can actually… oh, wait, you said she was a human didn't you? I suppose a human could wear one, but only once."

"The fur'd get in the way on anyone else, eh?" Arkold can see it. "But yeah, 'uman. Thing's goin' to fall apart after she wears it, then?" Of course, Arkold knows full well why it'll fall apart, if the courtship goes well.

"It'd dry out too quickly and become brittle," the Khatta notes, shaking her head. "You'd have to eat it within an hour, at most. We flavor ours too – the white ones are vanilla, the black chocolate and the red ones cherry."

"Black it is," Arkold decides once he hears what they're flavored as. He hangs the white one back up, then takes the black over to the counter. "All ready 'ere? I'll be goin' with this one," he informs the woman.

There is a piece of waxed paper on the counter with about a dozen chocolates on it already, next to an empty box. The Khatta takes the lace and starts to fold it down until it's about the same size as the pack of cigars, so that it will take up the rest of the space in the box. "You can go ahead and put the cigars in first. Did you want this gift-wrapped?"

"Make it a plain wrap – it's a surprise. Might wan' to write somethin' like "boots" or "dried fruit" on it, or somethin'." Picking up the cigars, Arkold places them in the box with delicate care. He's done something like this many times before, but there's something special about this time. Worship me, an' you might jus' take me 'ome, she said, he considers. He'll retire from the road, soon, and Ravenia doesn't have anywhere to go. They get along well, and he's attracted to her, so … Let's see if you wan' to come home with me, Raven.

The Khatta finishes packing the rest of the box, hiding the cigars and lace under the waxed paper, then wraps the plain box with string before asking, "Do you really want it to say 'dried fruit'? I mean, I've never seen anyone actually write what's in a box on the outside of the box. You wouldn't be able to reuse it then."

"Good point. I'll jus' say it's dried fruit, or somethin' like that," Arkold agrees. He reaches for his coinpurse, tucked away in its hidden spot, and opens it. "'Ow much do I owe ya?" Having been a thief for part of his life, Arkold is keen on hiding his money.

"I used the fancy chocolates," the girl admits. "So it would come to 32 shekels," she explains, but smiles hopefully. "And tips are welcome too!"

"Normally I'd ask for a kiss for that, but I'd best not today." Arkold takes out 38 shekels, and passes them on over.

"Thank you sir!" the Khatta says, making the coins vanish. "Enjoy your chocolates."

"It's not me that'll be doin' the enjoyin," Arkold insists. "Well, not the chocolates." He winks at the woman, and exits.

Back outside, there still isn't any sign that Agatha and Ravenia have finished shopping yet – unless they've moved on to a different shop already.

"Better check," Arkold murmurs to himself. He walks towards the shop's window, and peers inside.

The shop is full of clothing, not surprisingly, and several women. The red hair of Agatha can be seen over the confusion, near the back of the store.

"Eh, what the heck." Arkold side steps, then opens the door to head on inside.

Agatha is apparently waiting outside one of the changing rooms, which has a curtain for a door. "Got bored out there already?" the pony asks as Arkold approaches.

"I was missin' you both too much to wait," Arkold counters with a grin. "So, should I 'ead out? Anythin' you women would rather not 'ave me around for?"

The pony just shrugs. "Raven is trying on stuff still. Not a lot of selection for people without tails, and she doesn't want the hole in the back to show if possibly. What's in the box?"

Arkold glances at the box, then shrugs a little. "Jus' some travelin' supplies, for me. The road's weary, an' sometimes you need somethin' to keep you goin'," he explains. "'Ow about you? Not tryin' anythin' on? An', you can tell Ravenia I wouldn't mind a hole. She 'as a nice tail." He grins a bit more.

"You can tell her yourself," Agatha snorts, but smirks at the Jupani. "I have the clothes I need. No need for fancy stuff when you're crawling through muck or can't waste water on doing laundry."

"Eh, don't cut yourself short, Ag. You'd look good in a long dress. Somethin' slimmin', to take the eyes to your curves over you muscles," Arkold insists, sounding honest. "An', I might jus' do that," he adds, in response to Agatha telling him he can tell Raven himself.

The pony looks down at herself briefly, then back up at Arkold. "Nobody ever suggested I wear a dress before. Usually it's more along the lines of removing what I'm already wearing. Then again, maybe sober guys find dresses stimulating… "

"So I'm a sober guy now? That's a first. I think … Yeah, never been called a 'sober guy' before. Huh." Arkold scratches his head, pondering the irony of it all. "I guess you go for the bar guys, then. The fighters an' the brawlers, an' the adventurin' type."

"No, I said those are the type that usually compliment me on my looks, and imply they'd like a more thorough look," the pony says, fingering the scar on one side of her face. "My personal tastes depend on my mood."

"Sounds like you've 'ad a rough time, Ag. I can relate, to a point." The wolf reaches over and pats Agatha's shoulder in a friendly fashion. "I'm sure you'll find the right guy, eh?"

The mercenary arches an eyebrow, and asks, "What makes you think I need a guy at all?"

"Eh, don't take it the wrong way," the lupine insists, holding his hands up. "I'm not sayin' you need one, I'm sayin' 'avin' someone to share the good times with makes life richer."

Agatha grins and says, "Well, is this a good time, you think?"

Arkold nods slightly. "Yeah, I think we're 'avin' a pretty good time 'ere. I'm enjoying all your company, we 'ave good friends, an' it's a nice town, eh?" The wolf smiles. An' soon, 'opefully, it'll be an even better day.

"Okay then, that makes the room assignments a little easier," Agatha notes. "I already figured on sticking all the Eeee in the same room, and Squeaky in the farthest room with that Fnerf who snores."

"Eh? 'Ow's that?" Arkold actually blinks. Is she suggestin' what I think she's suggestin'? For the first time in his life, Arkold finds himself potentially ending up in the same bedroom with a woman he wasn't trying to seduce.

"It's all down to the size of the people and size of the beds for the rest," Agatha notes. "You and Clancy might be able to squeeze in together, but a better fit would be you with me and Raven, and Tulani with Clancy. Unless you think that'll be a problem?"

"Oh, no problem at all," Arkold answers, ears up. Not what I expected, but I can work it out. He grins a little, despite himself. "I'm sure Tulani'll appreciate it, too."

"Just don't snore," Agatha says. "Or you'll be breathing pillow."

Arkold nods seriously. "Wouldn't dare," he promises. Then, glancing at the dressing rooms, Arkold asks, "So what'd she decide to try on?"

"Peasant blouse and dress, earthy colors," Agatha notes. "Wide belt she thought would cover the hole. She needs footwear though, will probably need to see a cobbler."

"Shame I can't 'elp 'er with that." A pause, and Arkold adds, "Maybe I can. We still 'ave some daylight, an' I think I can find the cobbler on my own. You wan' to 'ead back and tell the others we'll be a bit late? Don' wan' Raven bare footed for the rest of our journey."

"Sure, I can use a drink anyway," Agatha notes, and hands over a purse full of coins. "Expense money for the clothes," she notes. "I gave the others credit vouchers, but I guess I can trust you with cash."

"S'not like I'm goin' to run off anywhere with it, eh? Ravenia'd pro'ly skin me anyway," the wolf says with a chuckle. "'Ere," he pulls out his own coin purse, and hands Agatha some coins. "'Ave a drink on me."

"Now that's the sort of man I like!" Agatha says, taking the coins and giving Arkold a wink. "Have fun playing dress up," she adds before clopping out of the shop.

Arkold just chuckles as Agatha leaves. She'd be my kind 'o woman, if I wasn't so sure we were a bit o' the same stuff. He watches the Rhian leave, then turns to the stalls. Carefully, he peeks down to try and spot furless feet.

Instead of bare feet, Arkold glimpses Ravenia's now-battered shoes as they approach the curtain.

Arkold quickly backsteps, holding the box behind his back. "'Ello, Raven," he greets the woman as she steps out of the door. He flashes her his most winning smile, too.

"Oh, Arkold!" Ravenia says, a bit surprised. She's wearing a long green dress, with a satin skirt and low-cut velveteen bodice. Gold braid provides the trim, and also tie the sleeves at the elbows to allow the forearms to flare out. She's also carrying a stack of others garments, neatly folded. "Where's Agatha?"

"She went to get a drink; I told 'er I'd 'elp you find some shoes," the wolf replies. He offers the human woman his hand, shifting the box to his other hand. "I've got the money, too, so you jus' leave it to Arkold." She tilts his head, looking the woman up and down. "You know, you're beautiful?"

Ravenia blushes, turning her cheeks a bit purple. "Well, it's nice to hear that after Mave got up and posed for her idol," the woman says quietly. "I'm just as big as she is, it just looks more impressive on a skinny frame… "

"Mave's made her whole life on being attractive an' the center of attention. Thing is, Mave's a bit hollow. For all she suggests she's the champion of Pleasure, I wonder 'ow much she actually feels, anymore." The wolf keeps his hand out, waiting for the woman to take it. "An' skinny she may be, but she's an' Eeee – they're all skinny. I like a woman with a little meat on 'er bones, besides." He smiles a little more, adding, "Want to take a walk with me?"

The dark woman takes the offered hand, black skin surrounded by white fur. "Certainly. I have a few more things I've picked out," she says, holding up the collection of folded items. "Some skirted bodices and pants for traveling."

"Whatever they are, they'll be more beautiful by 'avin' you wear 'em," the wolf says. He escorts Ravenia to the counter, then pulls out the coin purse Agatha gave him. "So, any thoughts as to what you'll be doin' when this is all over?"

"I'm just hoping to get through it all in one piece first," the woman admits, while the clerk tallies up her purchases. "How about you? Have you chosen your retirement cottage yet?"

"I'm likin' this town, but I wan' to speak with her Ladyship before I decide," Arkold answers. He turns to Raven, now, and looks down at her intently. "You'll get through this. We're goin' to be all right, eh? An' if you need 'elp afterwards, I'll be 'ere."

"And you're going to get me some shoes too, you said," Ravenia notes, and hands Arkold the bag full of her new clothes.

"Mind if I put this box inside, Raven? I got a few things, an' it'd be a 'assle to carry it all. The box is sealed, so no worries," the wolf asks.

"I don't see why not," Ravenia asks. "We need to get you some new clothes as well."

"That we do. Let's go, Raven." The wolf smiles at the woman, retucks the money away, then escorts her out. "It's going to be a nice night, Raven; I'm sure of it."