Aphrael trilled happily, shimmying out of the way of Vaeron's hands. She shuffled across the cow and behind Celandine, butting her head against the small child and piping amused flute notes as she stared at the man over the girl's shoulder. Nevin raised an eyebrow at this by-play. He tended to forget that the bird herself was still a youngling by her race's standards, so playing around with another small child seemed to amuse her greatly. He focused back onto the guardian.

"Oh, it's no concern of mine, as I said. Simply put you seem like a busy man, so traveling all this way for just one item seems wasteful. And while I might say business is always welcome, the town was recently attacked so someone coming in on what has to be the largest horse they've ever seen is a bit disruptive to most, unfortunately. No fault of yours, just bad timing on that. Aphrael - behave girl, or no candied insects for you tonight." An offering of amnesty - the man seemed to want Aphrael away from the girl, so he obliged him in that. The bird nudged the girl again and flapped her way back over to Nevin, trilling at him. The redhead rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know most of the town's kids give you a wide berth, but that doesn't mean you can attach yourself to the first traveling child that comes through. And that's not my business so don't tell me, I won't listen." With that admonishment he turned his gaze back to the mounted duo.

"As for the best smith in town, that is probably Yark. You'll find his place actually back a ways on the route that you came in - but he's on an off-street from this main road, about two streets down from where we are now. You'll know you've found it if you find a smithy proclaiming Elven-made goods can be found there; one of the Journeymen working in the shop is an Elf from a nearby tribe. If you have any alchemical needs - or if you decide to grant the child a boon - my store is probably your best option for those. Anything else sir?" Nevin didn't think the girl would know what a boon was - but the man might. Give him a chance to think about it perhaps, without the child realizing what Nevin had said. Aphrael sang out again, cheery flute notes, and began preening at Nevin's red hair.