#umu...

 “Who are you, child?”

Worried feelings, there is something in the air. Perhaps the smell of something cooking, the surface world is bright, so very bright. And he has custody [joint? perish the thought] of his child. the one that lives,

Yet this being who looks very similar, stands on his door. 

the markets, the perfect place to enjoy a meal. Find new friends and enjoy quality products that somehow stay in season despite the weather suggesting otherwise. Its still snowing a lot, but he’s used to such blase weather and determines that its warm enough [read not cold enough] for some shopping. 

 And whats this? He is looking at some big strawberries. 

 “I know you summoned me in a unusual way, but if you could, tell the others to stop asking for ... free samples of my products. This is not how a business is run!”

Pauses his harp playing.

"...A caravan! Come lets go!"