“This is a type of gourd, the flesh is firm and has deep, nutty taste. Make soup of it. Hardy even in poor soil. Spent a few seasons getting it right,” he said.
She studied the seeds, each one large as her hand. He stood still as she turned every single one over, inspecting them like only a master knew to.
“Seems promising,”
“I have sample, let me cut you a slice,” he said.
He readied a bit of the fruit, plus a scoop of its jam. Judging by her nods she seemed pleased with his offer.
“I’ll take what you have on you,” she said. He placed the satchel in front of her, guarding it with his claws.
“How will you pay for it?” He asked, leaning in. She turned to the back of her booth, digging around for a minute. Then she brought out a shiny figurine of a salmon, wrought from glass and steel and reflecting all the colours of the rainbow. He reached down, purring slightly as he assessed it. It was no bigger than his thumb, but held a small universe in its lustre.
“I believe this will do,” she said.
“so do I,”


————

Trading with the local town. Only the finest of knicknacks and anecdotes will be accepted.
Drew this quickly to wind down after work today. Got sent home early for accidentally inhaling citric acid