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// 15. I Am Talking 
// Story: The Little Wooden God 
// by Apophis797 
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A new market means worse competition but, with just a mile or so's walk, it also meant more richer people walking by. I'm able to manage only somewhat broken <equestrian> now, as I've learned it to be called, and now that I'm able to actually sell things I think I've managed to seem strange and exotic enough for richer ponies to see that as a selling point while being sorta approachable. I'm not exactly a major attraction yet but as far as the small single tables sitting near the edges of the market go I'm one of the less unpopular. It still wasn't much more interesting than before though, at least until I saw a familiar face coming through the crowd.

<Come on. We've only got a few hours before the show and I still need a shower after all that time on the road.> 

If the clear, sweet voice and contrastingly harsh tone weren't enough to peak my ears it wasn't long before I caught a glimpse of her pastel pink mane and darker coat. It was the young mare that I had hit with a spear after arriving. We didn't exactly get off on the right foot but she still gave me my first few words. It almost seemed wrong not to wave hello.

<I'm just happy to be out of that shirt. It's fine enough in the winter but when you're... Well I'll be damned. I think that's the spear monkey from the way to the Ponyville show.> Her companion had a similarly pink color scheme but with much more saturated hair and a pastel, almost off-white coat. On her flank was a harmonica overlaid on a music note which, given what they had said about a show, told me that they were probably traveling musicians.

<Um, I know what you are saying now. I would like not to be called a 'spear monkey'. It is nice to see you again though.> 

<Oh, I'm uh... Sorry about that...> Alright, never mind. I'd take a totally boring day over one that's interesting if the price is it being this awkward. <So... What are you called?>

<My name is John. It is nice to meet you. What is your name?> Hopefully I was speaking naturally enough to speak the conversation flowing.

<The name's Raspberry, and my friend sulking over there is Strawberry. She's still a bit upset about the bump on her head from last time.> Looking where she gestured I noticed that the other mare had, in fact, wandered about 10 feet away and was trying to appear interested in anything else.

<I am sorry about that. How has it been doing?> 

<It was fine two weeks ago. She just tends to get a bit irritable when we've been on tour for more than a week or two. So, how have things been going for you? Seems like you're doing alright for yourself. You were pretty clueless the last time I saw you.>

<Things have been good. I am selling small statues now.>

<I can see that. It's been a while since I've seen a non-unicorn manage craftsmanship like that.> She glanced over her shoulder at her increasingly distant friend. <I should probably be going. Nice meeting you properly though. I'll see ya around some time.>

<Goodbye. I will see you around.> 

It was the longest conversation I'd had outside of a transaction and I think I saw where my main issues were. Most of what I said was technically right, at least as far as I'd remembered, but it was too accurate. Like using textbook perfect English grammar. It probably came across as overly stiff and didn't leave enough room to keep things moving. Memorizing alternative words and slang for everything would be annoying and it probably wouldn't come across any more naturally so I'd just have to pick things up over time. Hopefully I'd have more non-retail conversations since in this world, as in my old one, it's impossible to actually remember all but the most interesting people while selling things from behind a counter.

I turned with a start as another customer came up to my table. I'd have plenty of time to plan things out in a few hours. For now I had a business to run.

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I smiled as I walked back to my makeshift home, brand new stewpot in hand. At first business had been relatively slow but it seemed that once word got around that I wasn't a scammer and my statues were decent I had accidentally undercut the rest of the local tchotchke salesmen in that area. Tourists were not only far more likely to walk through the nicer parts of the city, they were a lot more likely to buy the two bit statue than the five bit paperweight for whoever they had waiting back home. Near the end of the day I even had a nice young mare come by and buy the last six. Apparently her friends had been worried about finding some monster or another and she thought it would cheer them up. All that meant I would be making a nice soup, and a lot sooner than expected.

I wasn't comfortable eating the bone of the mystery bird since it had already been more than a day of it sitting at room temperature so I decided to use a mushroom stock. Mushrooms were pretty cheap so I simmered a bunch of them, sliced as thinly as I could quickly manage, in about 2 or 3 cups of water until it reached what felt like a nice color and then started adding the various seasonings and other ingredients. Getting a couple heads of garlic and some dried spices had cut into my savings a bit but they'd all last long enough that I wasn't worried. 

There weren't too many other ingredients, I was honestly a bit sick of vegetables and mostly just wanted to eat something hot, but it's amazing how comforting even a less than ideal soup can be. Maybe it's a cultural thing, most people get brought up knowing a soup as a nice winter meal had inside with their family, or maybe it's just the comfort of a hot drink amplified by being so much more filling, but even with just a few ingredients, even drinking it from a ladle for lack of a bowl, it still tasted as good as the meat had, although in a different way. It still tasted like things were going to be okay. It's a feeling I hadn't had a lot lately, distracting myself with the tension of constantly building and working towards things, with the energy of constant business and planning, but I realized that today was the first real conversation I'd had since coming here. Part of me wondered how things would have been if I hadn't panicked. If I had stuck around that first day instead of escaping. Maybe they would have been nicer. No point in worrying about that now though. I still had more figures to make for tomorrow.