[ AW ] kingdom by the sea

He’d been awake since the first green light of the sun, and he’d come down from his camp in the heathland to the port of Aberdeen before the break of day. He arrived early just as the sun broke over the flat gray waters, setting the sky an apocalyptic orange. The city itself was all gray stone and matte black silhouettes at this hour. There were seagulls. Lapping waves. A cold breeze. He padded down toward the beach; old garlic and rotting fish mingled in the air, as well as coal and the briny sea. Wolves milled about, tending to daily chores. Up early. Like him.

He had business to get to. Trading. Locals only, he stubbornly insisted - he’d no interest in anything hawkers from the Lowlands or Mainlands might bring. (Except… except… well, he’d never pay them for a book, he told himself). He’d no interest in sending his goods down south, either: high-quality wool from the black-faced moorland sheep of the north. Raised in the stiffest wind and rain, where they grew strong, thick coats. He brought some scraps of deer-hair hides, too, but not many. The wool and hides made decent enough bait for fishermen in the tide pools (better in rivers). But the wool was especially useful for water-resistant insulation here, among other things. Most of it he’d cached before coming into town, but some of it he’d brought with him to tender a bargain.

But Cethen hadn't come here on a lark; he was here for something in particular. And it wasn’t fish or shells. “Ae moment.” He stopped a spindly old man shuffling down the road beside him. “Daeye know anyone sellin’ salt around today?” He asked. The old wolf blinked rheumy eyes at him; scoffed. He shook his head, and grumbled something colorful in a pickled voice. Then he lurched off. Cethen huffed and resumed walking. Someone on the beach would have what he was looking for - or would know how to get it. So he hoped. He kept an eye out, looking for a likely tradesman to deal with, but he was moody; he really didn’t want to spend too much time here.

He creeps along behind him, carrying the things he was told to and stepping tenderly, gently. Each step still aches, but he does not draw attention to it, for the Nice Man™ doesn't need to be bothered with his small complaints. Of course, how is he to know what Cethen really wants or things? He doesn't, nor does he presume to know, because he does not understand the inner-workings of the more complex emotions of people...despite his best efforts to do so.

He remains relatively quiet this time, watching Cethen from a distance as he interacts with people just as grumpy and gruff. Asking for...salt? Like, from the ocean? He wrinkles his nose and things for a long moment, and finally ventures a quiet whisper to him,"I..I know how to...h-how to get...salt. From..from the w-water." he nods to himself, and then almost hesitantly continues from beneath the pelts, swaddled in them as if he is but a tiny bean in a bigger sea,"Used it for..mmm. Star things." he explains,"In..th-the black water. It...takes time." he frowns, expecting annoyance at this--no, nothing could be done immediately and indeed, it would take time to dry the ocean-water out to get the required salt...but if he knew how, he could certainly teach Cethen--and thus, he would not have to go looking to purchase it again. Right? Right.

Perhaps picking up this broken little changeling child would not be the worst thing for the Nice Man™. Maybe.
"We...can go get some...? T-the water. I can..show you? S-so you...don't need t-to ask." And here he said he wasn't good at many things!

He'd noticed - and kept an eye on - Jupiter's tender footsteps. Likely those chafes and wounds he'd noticed on the lad's feet hurt him, but for one, it would be no kindness to call attention to it if the boy didn't want attention drawn there. And for another, Cethen assumed those pains would harden and turn to callouses - the same as any wound in the body or soul or mind, so he thought - given time. He took the gentler paths and avoided the boggier ones, and in the end, they'd made it to Aberdeen without a problem.

He'd considered leaving Jupiter in the heathland to guard his sequestered stock but ultimately decided against it. The younger traveler wouldn't have been much of a deterrent against a thief, and his presence likely would've called more attention to the otherwise inconspicuously packed down goods. So he'd brought the lad into town with him, carrying what samples he might've needed to press a good bargain.

Unfortunately, he hadn't much of a mind for the boy's conversation while he was looking for purveyors of salt.

He pinched his brows when the lad piped up beside him. Little more than a whisper on the breeze. He stiffly refrained from looking at Jupiter until his frustration loosened and he relaxed somewhat. "Aye, I knaw it takes time," Cethen acknowledged, tense in his upper lip; "Anats why Ahve come here, tae get it from someone else faster than Ah can get it myself."

He stopped in the middle of the beach, looking the boy over. He squinted, skeptical, and worked his jaw. He relented, after a moment; his expression vaguely challenging. He couldn't find it in himself to go easy on the young volunteer, despite giving the lad have a chance to impress him. "Awright, show me."

And if it didn't work - if it came down to it - he could simply have Jupiter help him fetch seaweed from the shallows. Which wasn't as good as salt, but would do for his needs in a pinch.

He perks up a wee bit, and his shoulders roll a bit beneath the pelts he carries. He still doesn't quite know his way around, but it's not hard to follow the scent of salt and sand to the seaside. They are, after all, right on the beach. He wrinkles his nose as he thinks, and approaches the waves. The seafoam tickles his toes, and he looks delighted for a moment at the way the water licks at his tootsies. And then the saltwater reaches the wounds in the pads of his paws and he winces, cringing as he takes several steps back and shakes his paws in a manner almost comical before advancing upon the water again-- no, he'd do this. Annnndd then he realizes that he has nothing to catch the water in. He pouts, "I need... I need the things. The...gather-things." He cannot actually gather the water to dry without the proper materials, and he feels a little foolish for forgetting something so simple and...well, integral. Still, he would not be deterred, for a chance to prove himself is a chance to learn, and he turns to begin wandering up and down the shoreline until he chances to find what it is he searches for-- a tangled knot of matted rope, long since disused and left to the elements. It is, however, exactly what he needs.

Almost chipper, he picks it up and trots back to the sea, dunking it in until its fibers have become soaked through and the saltwater itself has begun to chap his lips and dry his nose in the biting air. But he seems pleased with this, and now they require some surface he can use to let it dry quickly. His nose wrinkles as he thinks, wracking his brain before remembering that..well, sun dries quickly! 'Tis why his nose hurts!
Yes, perfect. A sunny, dry, flat place.... Hmmm.
"I need a big rock!" he chirps, turning to face him with pride.

@Cethen