Why anygriffon would spend hard earned crowns on flowers of all things was beyond her, but apparently the proprietor made enough trade to keep afloat… and attract Sharpclaw’s attention. He was on the outside of his shop facing Sharpclaw and his gang of louts, six of them in all, including Jerm who was casually eating what little remained of the bread they had taken off of her. The rest seemed to just mill about or lean up against walls, giving anygriffon who so much as looked in their direction a mean look. She stayed behind a relatively large crate full of iron bars as she watched the proceeding events. She wanted to stop them, to help the florist and get Sharpclaw back for beating her… but there were a lot of them.