[ P ] out on the job

The afternoon air was cold, but the bustle of the city kept the true chill at bay. Myoga Hinata weaved his way in between citizens of Rionnach, his head low, his terracotta eyes staring straight ahead. He very much disliked crowds like these. Their chattering voices, all speaking a language that was not native to him, were like buzzing flies in his ears. It gave him a headache if he tried to listen for too long. He was arse at translating, and so he'd sort of given up on that, and he lived instead in a cacophony of wordless sound.

He would not even be here if it were not for his sister, Sakura, who had stubbornly insisted they take some of their spices into the city to attempt to sell. He had vehemently protested that idea. They were still not fully recovered from enduring the heat waves here, and the last thing he wanted to do was appeal to the people whom he felt had treated him poorly just months earlier. He had been a true refugee in every sense of the word over the summer: he was not from here; he did not have a home; he did not have money or stockpiles of food or water to go back to; he did not even have a permanent place to rest his head. So they'd been shunted like cattle into the temporary dens and crowded heat camps, forced to wait in line for what meager offerings they could scrounge up. It had been horrible. He had never been so thirsty in his entire life. He doubted that feeling would ever leave his memory.

And everyone had been so...so gluttonous. Always wanting more, always crying, vomiting, screaming, chastising. No, his introduction to Rionnach had been as bad as it could get, and he had not thought more favorably on the populace since then. But Sakura had insisted -- and for once, she was right -- that they could not return home yet. Their parents had sent them to this nation on a mission to create an outpost for the family business. If they came back empty-handed, their father would have their heads on skewers.

But that thought only enticed Hinata, who liked to try to push his father every chance he got. So, while Sakura was off nearby hawking her wares at a street corner, Hinata had volunteered to go ahead and see if he could speak to any merchants who looked newer on the job -- see how they set up their stalls, who to talk to, yada yada. In truth, he planned to do none of these things. He was --

He sidestepped at the last moment, stumbling, as someone came suddenly across his path. His shoulder cuffed against their own, and as he regained his footing a step or two away, he turned his eyes upon the stranger sharply. "Hey," he said. That was easy. It was one of the very few common words he knew.

Speech

Black had barely been back into town. She had wandered for a long, long time. Behind her was a wagon of hunting trophies. A conglomerate of skulls, paws, tails, pelts, teeth, claws - from all types of animals. Small prey to large, small predator to large. But the one she kept near and dear was the bear pelt she’d acquired some time ago, along with her first set of scarring. The young lady was now covered in an array of scars, each telling their own tales of how they emerged.

She sat, the wagon behind her, merely watching the crowds as she had to calculate and think about just how she would set up a stall for sales. Surely others would be interested in these prizes? They weren’t easily obtained. She’d simply have to try her paw at it and see if there was a market for such things.

Black was deep in thought when another bumped into her shoulder, she grunted slightly and was moved, but her first reaction was not aggression. She looked at him, his word falling easily in abrupt greeting, and she blinked. Odd.
"Excuse me."
The drone offered politely, although it wasn’t her fault. Maybe he was just as deep in thought as she was. She’d not fault him yet.
"Have I accidentally taken your sales spot?"
Maybe he was shouldering his way back into his rightful area. She would gladly move if so. She waited patiently to see if she was in the wrong.

As he got a better look at her, Hinata saw that the woman was not on the beach alone. No, it appeared that she had...dragged the skull, pelt, teeth -- everything -- of every type of animal imaginable with her. Hinata blinked as he took in her haul, and then the woman herself, covered in scars, clearly from the animals she now toted around with her. He blinked again as her gaze fell upon him, not angry, but inquisitive. "Excuse me." Again, not aggressive, but polite. Bland.

"Have I accidentally taken your sales spot?" Again, that drab voice with the perfect manners. It did not match her scarred appearance or the impressive trophies she had with her. It took him several seconds to decode what she had said in his head, making the foreign words mean something in his brain. Accident. That meant unintentional. Sales. He knew that one, despite how much he loathed it. His father had beaten it into his brain. "Oh," he said as he pieced it together at last. "No." He was not trying to be rude, but he only had so many words he knew in their tongue. "Not...sales." His tongue felt thick as he danced over the syllables. He hated the way they sounded. Grating and inelegant.

"Sorry," he offered with a shrug after another halting pause. His eyes again dragged over her face, her scars. Then back to her wares. "You sell?" he asked, finding a rhythm in his short, bifurcated sentences. He spotted something then, a thick pelt that was unmistakable in its size and smell. He took a step near it. "You...kill it?" he asked, eyes moving from the bear pelt back to her face.

""

table by ferus, image by sylvirr, bg from unsplash

In return she wasn’t met with aggression either, for this she was relieved. He almost seemed confused by her haul and her appearance, but Black paid little mind to this. She listened well to his broken words, uncaring of their origin, but merely glossing over and continuing like everything was of the norm. Her well muscled and torn up shoulders moved in a shrug.
"Not yet. Going to try. Never sold before."
But maybe that can change. He inspected one of her bear pelts, and she nodded.
"Yes. She was fierce."
Black did remember each and every fight she has, whether it be small or large. Her collection business was a tough one to maintain, but she did so enjoy it. The pelt he had pointed out was a female black bear, and while not as particularly aggressive as grizzlies, she was still mighty. She wasn’t the first bear Black took down, for the very first bear to have met his demise against the abyssal woman and her team was still sprawled on her cavern floor at home, waiting for her. Her first trophy could never be sold. He has granted her the very first scar of her collection.
"Want to purchase?"
What a great opportunity, her first sale, her first customer! Was she doing this right? She reached in to pluck it from her many wares, holding it by the twine she had used to wrap it up in a loose roll. She would display it on herself but it would be hard to see on her already pitch black pelt. She set it gently on the ground in a vertical fashion, so only one end would need dusting off.

"Not yet. Going to try. Never sold before." Hinata watched her carefully. She had amassed this much stock, but had never made a sale? What an interesting woman. "Yes. She was fierce." His eyes drifted to the bear pelt once more, then back to her. "Big," he said appreciatively of the pelt. "It give you...er...scar?" He found the word to describe the markings on her body and said it bluntly, without reservation.

"Want to purchase?" The woman immediately pulled the pelt from her wares, setting it off on the ground so that the sunlight glinted handsomely off of the dark fur. Hinata could not repress the spark of longing it set off in him -- the idea of having something rugged, representing freedom in the way it did. Something of his own. Something worth something else. "Cannot," he said, and there was real regret in his tone. "Sister and me... Merchants too." He hated to admit it. "Spice? Pap -- uh -- paprika, salt, other...things." This was why Sakura did the sales pitches. He had never bothered to learn the common tongue well enough to describe what they sold in any great detail.

"You want this?" he asked her after a moment, gesturing to her shop. "It is..." He struggled to find the right word to describe it, and when he failed, he did not continue.

""

table by ferus, image by sylvirr, bg from unsplash

While it was a struggle to understand what he meant, Black wasn’t one to judge unfairly. Instead, she quietly tried to decipher his meanings behind his broken words. He looked at the pelt in awe, his eyes sparkling, the desire for it evident. She had the small inkling to gift it to him, but wondered if that would make her a bad saleswoman? She couldn’t just go around giving away all her lovely wares because she enjoyed that it gave them joy too. It would be bad business. She warred with herself on this.

He went on to say he and his sister were also merchants, selling spices. Her ears perked slightly, trying to encourage him and reassure that the language barrier wasn’t as heavy as it presented itself to be.

Then he asked if she wanted this, which she pieced together was the shop. She sucked in slowly as she pondered her response before giving it.
"Not sure yet,"
She looked to her trophies.
"Liked getting them, but selling is hard."
Already for her, as Black is ready to give away one of her more expensive wares.
"Also do special hunt orders,"
She stated.
"If you want something specific, I can go find it and acquire it."
Perhaps if they became friends, she would gift him things regularly.

Hinata appreciated the gravity she gave his question. He could hear her inhale, could sense the weight that it placed on her as she considered her answer. Yes, he liked how thoughtful she was in her responses. It made her seem more genuine than many of the wolves he had met so far in Rionnach. They so often talked quickly, or, as he liked to say, out of their asses. Not many of them gave a damn about conversation. He may have been more aware of that than others because of how hard it was for him to make conversation, but oh well.

"Not sure yet." He followed her gaze to her many wares. He assumed they were hard-won. "Liked getting them, but selling is hard." He grunted immediately in affirmation. Selling was definitely hard. "Also do special hunt orders. If you want something specific, I can go find it and acquire it." She looked at him with seriousness, and he responded in kind. If he wanted something specific? He could not wrap his mind around what that would be. He had nothing. He and Sakura lived in a tiny hole in the wall, which they used as a makeshift staging area for the spices and herbs they tried to sell on the streets. He slept on a cold hard floor. He'd come over with nothing, and he had nothing still.

She was offering him the chance to have something. Something of his own. He found himself frowning at her. "You are... kind," he said slowly, contemplating. "Not good saleswoman." But he smiled afterwards, a rare thing from him, to show that it was not meant to be a cut. "Me neither," he assured her. "Sakura... my s-sister... She is, uh, more good." He quieted for a moment while he considered, and then said, "Can I... go with you? On the hunt. Get away from Sakura. Would be good."

""

table by ferus, image by sylvirr, bg from unsplash

Bright seaglass eyes observed him in high regard as the man spoke to her, agreeing in most ways that she, definitely, wasn’t a good sales woman. No, she wasn’t. She wanted her wares to do the selling for her, but she would try anything to get her small family what they needed. Even if that meant her being unable to actually see them. A demon she needed to face one day all on her own. But that was for another time, for the man in front of her was oozing with a bare sincerity she had been craving from the public for a while.

She nodded at him as he spoke, and when he offered to come along on the hunt, her eyes widened slightly and her attention fully focused on his face. Her ears perked, and her tail twitched with anticipation. Why, she had never been offered a company before. Not since her initial bear hunt which seemed to have sparked this bloodthirst in her. She blinked.
"Yes. Come."
She stood then, packing up what few wares she had out.
"Am ready when you are. Now, later, it doesn’t matter. The hunt will always be there."
Even if he didn’t want to join her this instant, she was ready pack up and go home already. She needed to figure this selling thing out.
"I am Black. Nice to meet you,"
She had left it open for him to offer his name, or not. It was fine either way, she’d hunt with Nameless.