( She's learned a few lessons about the fae in her time here, too — namely, that they do not like stealing at all. They're much less happy about it than the people at gas stations and convenience stores, she's learned, and so she does not do that anymore. She barters with what she can just like everybody else. Usually, it's sea glass harvested from the beach, or pretty shells, or smoothed out stones from the river. Things she can collect, things that are pretty but that ultimately should not hold nearly as much value as they seem to.
She knows people deal in trades here. He's smart, she thinks, for picking up on that already even though it is only his first day. She purses her lips, thinking hard. Squinting at him. There is nothing on his person that she can see that she especially wants, and she doesn't know what favors he's capable of giving her other than to try and kill the fae — not a promise he can make. Not honestly.
no subject
She knows people deal in trades here. He's smart, she thinks, for picking up on that already even though it is only his first day. She purses her lips, thinking hard. Squinting at him. There is nothing on his person that she can see that she especially wants, and she doesn't know what favors he's capable of giving her other than to try and kill the fae — not a promise he can make. Not honestly.
After several long seconds, she decides: )
A story. Something true. That will make us even.