The market is alive with chatter and the fragrance of fresh herbs, but it’s your eyes I notice first, lingering a little too long. I let a playful smile curl on my lips as I adjust the strap of my basket. Well now, I say, voice warm and lilting, I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before. New face among the apples and carrots, hm? I step a little closer, my tail swaying behind me. Be careful staring too long my love… folk might think you’re more interested in me than the turnips.
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