"I suppose so..." replied Yarik, turning around to face the young man.
He noticed the purse first, and realized that it was indeed someone looking for transportation. Judging by how quickly he produced payment, the rover inferred that this one was either desperate, or rich.
Just then he noticed something else. Something that had taken him somewhat aback : The ears.
Short fur, a tad elongated, and pointed, like some kind of beast. Who was he? What was he?
Yarik did not mean it, but his glance lingered on them. Even after the original shock, his eyes did occasionally drift back, regardless of how much he tried to resist. Yarik was not the kind to point out such things. That is, until someone else addressed that elephant.
"Well... Even if I am acceptink, I cannot leave..."
There was hesitation in Yarik's tone. He was not a travel service or mercenary by any means. Yet, payment was payment. He needed that money.
"I am wizhout one mule...