"Uh, not exactly..." Niamh said with a frown. Something to take your mind off of your responsibilities? That was a bleak view of diversions—and it made her feel strangely judged. Both because it was coming from a church leader, and because it was coming in the wake of those letters, those accusations that she'd ditched her responsibilities and run off to live with heathens. That still stung, that while she'd been fighting for her life and sanity, Dimitri thought she was just...whoring herself around, like she hadn't been traveling with him for the better part of a year, like he didn't even know her.
Realizing she was tensing her jaw and clenching her teeth, Niamh took a deep breath in and out her nose and let the conversation drop. That had gotten awkward fast. Rolling her shoulders back, she picked up her pace, going on ahead of Speaker to browse the wares before he could notice her change in mood.
"I really miss my staff," she sighed as she looked the weapons over, pausing to check out some double-bladed staffs similar to the one she'd once owned. Only that one had been infused with incendia and had been far more special—priceless, even, as it had once belonged to her father—than any of the ones here. She wouldn't be able to afford any of these, though, so she moved on down the stalls until she found the knives and daggers.
The vendor watched her closely as she picked up and weighed a few here and there, testing their grip and examining their craftsmanship. Finally, she settled on one, a simple but sturdy dagger that would make her feel at least a little safer and that was in her price range. Which was to say, it would use up her last bit of coin. She paid for it, then returned to Speaker and held it up for him to see.
"Not too shabby, eh?"
