Finding out who your friends are....

Garden stood quickly, having nearly fallen asleep while shelling peas for her to fix for dinner that evening.  Business in the district was either feast or famine, and today, it had been famine.  She'd spent most of the morning shelling, giving Jarl a handful of peas to string onto a small stick he was playing with, and settled in to wait until the day was up.

Until now.

"Goddesses, Cast," she nearly dropped the basket of peas, setting them to the side.  But she came over to attend the young man who, periodically, brought her some type of payment other than rupees to finance his mysterious cloth needs.  "I have maybe a bolt and a half of blue wool left, but I don't need any--"

"MEAT BUNS!"  Jarl, leaving off his unconventional toys, came running over to meet Cast, reaching his hand toward the bag of meat buns.  Garden gave his knuckles a small rap.  "Please and thank you, Jarl.  We don't just reach for things."

Jarl pulled his hands back, but still smiled mischievously up at Cast, as though to a comrade with whom he shared a big exciting secret.

Garden shook her head, but realized it was nearly lunch time -- and Jarl had been exceptionally well-behaved today.  She silently consented to the trade by throwing Cast a mock-helpless look, then going over to her bolts of wool.  "The only shade I have is a deep royal blue.  Will that work?"

Just then, the blacksmith joined up beside Cast, staring in at her.

"Morning Garden!  I just came to see ho-- oh!  Sorry, Cast, didn't see you there, I was just--"

"Following your nose."

"Maybe..."

"Good morning, Cresta," Garden said as she went ahead to cut the cloth, as it was either royal blue for Cast or nothing.  "Cast, can you spare two rolls?  One for Jarl and one for Cresta.  This top-knotch wool is surely worth that," she intoned with an exaggerated smoothness, batting her eyelashes at him.  "... I don't eat meat rolls anymore myself.  Not sense I watched the butcher gutting a cow to make them last month..."

"One more!"  Jarl grinned.  "For him."

The last word her young son uttered caused Garden to make the last scissor snip a little crooked.  She knew exactly who the "him" was her son spoke of "No, Jarl."

But Jarl was undaunted, pointing toward a figure who was sitting on the ground in the back of the booth, head bowed and eyes focused downward.  "He needs to eat, too!  He's hungry!"

Wordlessly, Garden flopped the fabric onto the counter in front of Cast and walked back toward the figure, reaching to pull a dressing screen in front of him, which she kept around just for the purposes of hiding him.  Her heart was pounding as she feared turning back around to see a completely cleared sales counter, as had happened plenty of times before.  "Sorry.  Anyway, two meat rolls for the wool, right?"

"But Momma--!!"

"Shh."