"What do you need me to do?" Miwah asked, walking next to Tamma's side as they travelled through the narrow path between the rows of merchants.

"I just need you to pay attention. You saw how Donny and I talked to each other, right?"

"Yes," Miwah replied as she nodded.

"There's an art to selling. Just being pretty isn't going to cut it. Competition here is ruthless. People are looking to pay the lowest price for your rarest and valuable goods. You can't let them do that."

"I think I get it," Miwah said. "Back in Taipen we paid what we thought was fair."

"Yeah, that might work with a smaller village where everyone knows everyone. But here in Farrowport's Market Center? It a free-for-all. Just stay close and listen to what I do."

The seamstress nodded again. "I will do my best."

"We're approaching my favorite spot." Tamma pointed towards a narrow section on the side of harbor opposite of the docks. A slim portion of the wall was left vacant, right between two vegetable vendors. She whistled and Lug cam dashing to her side. "Time to set up shop, Lug!" The hunter kept her finger pointed towards the empty area and Lug giddily trotted towards it. The two adjacent merchants looked at the galloping brillick with repugnance as he rested on the ground, facing the building.

"You're going to set your stall up here?" One of the merchants asked of Tamma as she put her hand on the curtain that covered her wagon. She was an older woman with long white hair tied into a messy braid. She slid the peppers on her table towards the center and away from Lug. "You could at least leave that... beast of yours at home!"

"Lug comes with me everywhere I go," Tamma said as she pulled back the tarp that obscured the wares of her cart. "We've been over this before, Gertrude."

"I don't want that slobbering animal getting near my fresh crops again!"

"I paid you for what he ate!"

"But you didn't pay me for all of the business I missed when he scared away all the customers after he hopped onto my table!"

"It wasn't that big of a deal. Maybe if you actually took care of your crops, maybe the customers would have returned!"

"What are you talking about?"

Tamma walked over to the table and picked up one of the red peppers that the old woman was shielding from Lug. She held onto the shriveled stem and presented it to Miwah. "Does that look any good to you?"

The seamstress put her head closer to it and squinted her eyes. "I... uh... I am not much of a cook." Brown spots covered the wrinkled flesh of the vegetable. Miwah gave it a tap and the stem snapped into two, sending the pepper to the ground and landing with a wet crunch.

"Uh-huh. Exactly," Tamma said to Gertrude.

"You expect me to throw away perfectly good food?"

"No, I expect you to throw out rotten crops that will get people sick." Tamma leaned down and plucked the squished remains of the pepper and tossed them in front of Lug. The brillick happily munched on the vegetable in his lounging state. She then took out her purse and placed two large copper coins on the table. "And that's all I'm paying for it."

"I paid at least twice for that!"

Tamma shrugged her shoulders. "Should have sold it sooner."

"I don't see you selling too much of your furs," Gertrude said as she stepped out from behind her table to peer inside Tamma's wagon. "Looks like your stuff is in the same place as it was last time."

"Yeah, yeah. Even I'll admit it can be hard selling furs to people in Farrowport."

"Maybe you should donate them to the Governor's estate. You know he could use more rugs for all those rooms he's got up there!"

"The reason why I hold onto them is because I don't want them to go to waste! I'd rather somebody make good use of these pelts instead of tossing across their floor and wiping their boots clean with them."

"If you keep hoarding this tat, there won't be any room left for stuff that people actually want to buy." Gertrude leaned inside the wagon and rummaged through it.

"What are you doing in there? I know you're not going to actually buy anything you old miser!" The other merchant slinked out of the rear of the wagon, holding onto the small sack of necklaces. She quickly opened it wide and poured the contents out onto her open palm. All the jewelry spilled out across her hand. Brilliant gold chains and precious stones flashed against the sunlight.

"Now these... these will be worth something!" The old woman smiled as she rustled the necklaces in her palm. She took hold of a sapphire with her other hand and lifted it above her head. Tamma turned to Miwah, looking at her with shock.

"You're carrying all of that with you?" she quietly asked as gestured to the necklaces with her thumb. Miwah lunged forward towards the old woman, taking hold of her hand in an attempt to obscure the jewelry from unwanted attention.

"Please put those back," Miwah whispered. "Those are not for sale."

"Since they were in Tamma's cart, I assumed they were." Miwah managed to snag all the necklaces except for the sapphire one that Gertrude held onto. "How much for this one? I'll give you everything on my table for it."

"Not worth it, Miwah," Tamma called out.

"I know." The seamstress reached up and grabbed the necklace by the chain and pulled it out of the woman's hand. "And they are not for sale. They have... a personal connection to me." She quickly put all the jewelry in her cloth pouch and tucked it away underneath the band that was wrapped around her robe.

"Aren't you clingy?" Gertrude said while snarling. "I would have put them back if you gave me a moment!"

"Apologies. But these are very important to me. I do not want them being shown off to everyone in the area."

"You know how the Cutthroats get whenever they see anything of value. Puts a real target on your back if you're not careful." Tamma looked down at the woman's spread of vegetables. "Probably why they leave you alone."

"Bah," Gertrude flicked her wrist towards the other two women. "My time is better spent at my stall than chatting with you two."

"Likewise." Tamma sat down next to her wagon, crisscross. She patted on the ground beside her. "Have a seat, Miwah."

The seamstress lowered herself and pressed her knees against her chest. The crashing of the waves became more distant as the unified murmur of marketgoers grew louder. They both watched as people passed by, glancing at Tamma's wagon and then at the adjacent vegetable stand before continuing towards other vendors.

"I thought you sold a lot of goods," Miwah whispered after a few minutes without customers.

"Being a seller is all about waiting, lass," Tamma said. She stretched an arm across her chest and rested her head against the side of the wagon. "I'd say it's about half waiting and half persuading."

"I feel like I am learning so much," Miwah said sarcastically. She took her finger and started making patterns in the sand that covered the stone ground.

"I see you've caught on to the tone of a merchant already."

Miwah opened her mouth to say something until a large shadow blocked the sun. She looked up, her lip quivering when she saw who stood over her.

"What are ya selling in there?" the large and muscular man asked, pointing towards Tamma's wagon. Miwah remained motionless, her eyes fixated on the bearded man that stood before her. A long fur coat was draped over his shoulder. On his bare chest were familiar tattoos that were broken up by deep brown scars. As she stared at him, he stared back with a pair of narrow eyes. "Something wrong with ya?" he moaned.

Miwah broke her gaze, immediately looking to the side. Tamma stood upright and watched Miwah head to the other side of the wagon. The customer continued to stare in the seamstress' direction.

"Oh, she's new here," Tamma said nervously. "This is my wagon. I'm selling meat and furs."

"Just what I needed," the bulky man replied. "Me and my men could use both."

"Perfect! Tamma reached into her wagon and pulled out the pelt from the grizlewulf that had been slain. She gave the fur a pat with one hand and looked at the large man with a confident grin. “Fresh out the forest! Skinned it just this morning.”

The man took his hand and brushed his fingers across the gray fur. "I like the feel of it." He took hold of the fur with both hands and shook it. "Got a nice weight, too."

"Grizlewulf fur is great for keeping heat!"

"Not bad, not bad." The man draped the pelt over his shoulder and lowered himself to look inside the wagon. "And you said you've got meats too, right?"

"Aye! Some of the best game that this island has to offer."

"Let me see that too, then." He patted his bare stomach with his hand, creating a fierce slap. “Sailing can really work up an appetite.