The wind blew in Azeta’s face, roaring in her ears as her and Feran walked along the path. Further down the hill was trade and tourist shop that belonged to the old Anth, Parkun. They continued down the slope to the edge of the village, where the rickety hut creaked slightly in the wind.
When Azeta pushed back the doors, she was amazed at all the beautiful banners that hung from the ceiling and walls. The scent of old books and dried herbal remedies filled the room. Parkun sat in a chair behind a counter that had pieces of jewelry on display. He looked up from a scroll he was studying.
“Oh hello. What can I do for you?” Parkun asked in a raspy voice.
“We were wondering where your scrolls are.” Feran jumped in, before Azeta could say anything.
“Back corner, on your left.” the Anth said. Then he returned to studying his scrolls.
When they had walked away from the counter, Azeta grabbed Feran’s arm.
“I thought you wanted to talk to him