The shop stood mainly undisturbed. It’s intricate, colorful carpet, and many glinting wares that lay upon it were devoid of their usual pointy-eared companion. A slow day, as he liked it, as was usual for the merchant who enjoyed hiding himself away from the public eye like some secret to be stumbled upon by accident. It’d been so slow that he’d resigned himself to simply observing the flowers just a few feet away. Though observing was not all he was doing. Really, he was sitting right in the middle of the tiny flowery field daintily plucking away at the stems. They collected in the crook of his elbow, some in his pockets, others in the cascading golden locks of his ponytail, the colors only adding to the vibrancy of his whole look.

If anyone were to see him, they’d probably think it was just any other Gaiyan and look the other way, while some rude others would probably have called him a hippie or a tree hugger. The more romantic few would have addressed the scene as some sort of portrait. But the reality of the situation was a little farther from all of that. If you looked closely, you’d see the slight jitter to his hand, you’d see the dilated pupils and how his head tilted from side to side every so often.

The elf was high. Very high.

In a moment of panic and headaches, he had used up the last bit of his stash that morning. He had only wanted to stave off that sickly, deafening buzzing, and the pressure like hands threatening to squeeze his skull until he was no more. Even now, through the mounting haze of the herbs, his doe eyes were pained and glassy. Yet some amount of recognition lit a path through the narrow blue of his hues when an all-too-familiar presence appeared at his side.

“Ohh…!” he cooed softly. Maybe he’d been startled, but his body didn’t react. His face slowly angled up at the visitor, his hands now haphazardly picking at the ground. “Delivery…?” he mused, a light smile playing at his parted lips as his gaze shifted, in all its sluggishness, between her outstretched arm and her pretty, silver eyes. “…What have brought me today; oh, one who shadows the trees? A delivery in the form of a gift? Why, you shouldn’t have…!” It seemed that he had forgotten what the darkly dressed woman was here for. But she’d brought him a gift! And that made for an even happier elf!

She spoke again, something about shop that possibly pertained to his wares. Of course, Saeven was a little confused by all this. Did she really want to see them? Did she not? Why, his wares were on display for all to see! At least, in his mind they were. She would need only to walk over and view them. What a silly little dryad she was being! “Why, everything’s affordable. It is only a question of what you’re willing to part with and what you are willing to receive in exchange,” he had lifted a finger up as if explaining the scientific theory behind bartering, before than same hand plucked one of the many diminutive buds from the crook of his arm and shakily placed it upon the palm which held his ‘gift’, still not claiming the pouch.

A gentle giggle came next, like the action had somehow amused him, and threw himself back into the fields, petals lifting into the air as his long legs splayed out from beneath him. “Business, as you see, is thriving,” he gestured towards the empty shop, bursting into a fit of airy giggles afterwards at the irony. “I am glad,” another giggle, “to see you today, dear Rayne.”