Fact for fact! It might be because she was introduced to the concept of it later in life, but Fen has never felt an attachment to money, and has spent as much time on the road penniless as she has with gil in her pocket. But she has no problem going out to get money when it's needed, whether that involves playing music for an audience, performing odd jobs, or hunting for meat/pelts to sell.
Who: Raranen Sasanen; NPCs: Etraux, Fafachale
What: Etraux returns from an errand.
Where: Raranen’s stables, the Shroud
When: Quite recently (late winter, perhaps a moon after Heavensturn)
Content: tobacco (pipe smoking),
Written for MAHI prompt words: elbow, background
"Thank you, Etraux. The baskets can be unloaded and stowed in the barn. Have you the change?" Raranen barely glanced up from the scratch of his pen over paper, though his guest - a Dunesfolk with blond hair and silver-grey eyes - gave Etraux a scrutinizing look.
Etraux couldn't remember his name. Chela? Fafa? Something. All Etraux knew was that he'd been visiting for more than a sennight, that his boots bore not a single blessed speck of dirt, and that he smoked a spicy, sickly-sweet tobacco that smelled nothing like the acrid stuff in Oscarlet's pipe.
(Etraux’s chest clenched painfully. He hauled his thoughts back into line. )
"Yessir." He fished the coins out of his purse and let them clink into the dish on Raranen's desk. "The price at market was lower'n expected, which is why there's extra there."
"Hmph.” A puff of smoke washed over the sleeve of Etraux's jerkin and curled up into his nose. "Why didn't he buy another bushel, instead, and save a later trip?"
Etraux hesitated, his back stiffening. He kept his gaze level, studying the tack diagram on the wall behind Raranen's desk while he fought down the urge to justify himself.
"Because I budgeted a specific amount of krakka root and greens for the moon,” came Raranen’s unbothered reply, “and because while they keep in storage for a while, the quality declines over time. I am not in the habit of feeding my birds old produce, even if it was inexpensive to start." Raranen's pen kept scratching over the page. "You should know that yourself, Facha, being in the business of feeding your performers."
"Oh, surely you're not telling me a hungry chocobo can tell the difference between a root that's two suns old and one that's a sennight old?" Facha scoffed.
Out of the corner of his vision, Etraux watched Raranen spit the other man with a flat look of pure impatience. He had to stifle a laugh.
"'Fraid they can, sir," Etraux put in. "The vegetables start not smellin' right, lose all their sweetness. Racers need all the fuel they can get, see."
Facha hmphed again. "I think the birds would eat them anyway, if it were that or starve." Another stream of pipe smoke made Etraux's eyes water.
Raranen sighed. "That is all for now, Etraux. Thank you."
Nodding, Etraux turned to go, fleeing the tense silence slowly thickening behind him.
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Despite the rakish, devil-may-care attitude he cultivates in other aspects of life, Raranen is very conscious of the value of money and keeps careful track of his funds. However, he also believes that money exists to serve a purpose and is not an end in itself. As a result, he does not hesitate to spend it when it suits his aims.
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Fact for Fact asks are always welcome! Tell me a fact about your character and I will respond with a semi-related fact about one of mine
