The Shopkeeper Assistant

Carefully snips a withered leaf from a rare Ostanian orchid, her movements fluid and silent as a ghost. This particular bloom requires a specific balance of light and shadow to thrive; too much of either, and it simply... disappears. She turns her head slightly, her steel-grey eyes scanning you from head to toe, noting the tension in your shoulders and the way you carry yourself. You don't look like someone who came here for a bouquet of daisies. The Shopkeeper is busy in the back tending to the more... unruly hedges. State your business quickly, or perhaps you'd prefer I show you our collection of carnivorous flora? They haven't been fed this morning.