Willie
It was quite interesting how Vhun was behaving, somehow seeming intent on making sure they knew that she was looking at them. They could understand why, though. She didn't seem to have access to the facial expressions of most species, and Ventum knew that a lot of people could get very bothered if they couldn't read someone's expression - their own face was fairly neutral most of the time, and they had been told off for it many times in the past. It had bothered them once, but they'd grown past it by now.

They watched the Mothfolk closely as she gestured at them, uncertain as to what she was trying to communicate. However, soon enough, she began to nod along, so perhaps they were on the right path. Did she agree with their intentions? It didn't really matter, they supposed. It was clear enough that Vhun was letting them take the fabric, and she didn't seem to be disagreeing with their idea to make it into a cloak. Sure, the fabric was a little on the thin side, but it could be a cloak made to be worn in summer, to help protect them from the sun. And it definitely would look better as a shirt, but Ventum could already tell that they wouldn't find the texture comfortable to wear, and it was a waste to make it only to have it hanging in some closet for the rest of eternity.

Being told to wait, Ventum nodded and did just that, saying nothing until Vhun indicated that they could stop waiting. They watched, silently, as she put the cards back and took out what appeared to be a notebook of some kind. Just a notebook to write in? That seemed like a waste of parchment. It didn't even look to be reusable in any way. But, then again, if that was the way she preferred to communicate, who were they to judge?
_ _

Ventum read over the words as they were presented to them, giving another nod. "I understand," They spoke, paused for a second, then added, with the slightest tilt of their head; "May I ask, are you unable to speak?" Wait, was that considered a rude question to ask? They couldn't quite recall, but... Well, hopefully it wasn't.
Dwight
The mothfolk didn't move from her rigid posture, staring down at Ventum. Was this unsettling? She didn't know. A shiver ran down her body, starting at the tips of her antennae, then traveling down her head, shoulders and then down her wings. It seemed to be an involuntary gesture, like some kind of irritant she was instinctively trying to shake off. Her wings half-opened for a second, and then slowly refolded at her back.

Vhun had pulled her hands away from the fabric by now, having decided against buying anything here. There wasn't anything thick enough for a jacket like she wanted to make. However, she wasn't opposed to talking to Ventum now. She could perhaps provide them some help in their decision-making. Her hands quickly returned to the fabric as she watched Ventum's eyes move away from them. Perhaps it was the color? Or the texture? The texture was a lot different than the pants...

*I'm not able to speak, but I can understand Common, as you can tell.*

She had a card for this, but she'd already put the cards away. It was a waste of parchment, but that didn't matter. She didn't have a better way. She did know how to make her own parchment, but it did often come out looking a bit strange from time to time, given that it had been written on.

*Do you have a certain issue with this fabric? Or just only looking to get one thing?*

This was her next question, Vhun seeming to be unbothered by this question. She had, after all, answered it many times. It was the most common conversation she had. She was more concerned with the matter at hand: fabric.
Willie
Ventum wasn't bothered by Vhun's appearance, not really. Sure, she looked unusual, especially compared to most people they'd encountered in their life, but that was no reason to judge her. She seemed friendly enough, and the way she seemed more interested in the topic of fabrics than the more judgemental questions people usually asked them did help increase their opinion of her by a lot.

The shiver rolling down her body was noticed by them, but ignored, as they felt it was nothing to be concerned about. Ventum instead decided to focus on her writing, watching her do so with some interest - not that the writing process itself was particularly interesting, but her four arms were fascinating. Most of the time, Ventum was only able to use one arm, so they were naturally a little curious about what it was like to live with four.

Another nod. That made sense. "I understand," Ventum spoke, happy to drop the topic at that. That was all the information they needed to know to communicate effectively with her. If there was anything else that was important for her, they were certain she would just mention it.

At her question, Ventum hesitated for a moment, reaching out their right hand to feel the fabric once more, thinking on what to say and how to say it. "I... Don't like the way it feels very much. It's difficult to explain. Something about it just feels... Wrong." Would she be able to understand? It was very unlikely. "But," They continued, once more looking her in the eyes, hand lowering, "I do really like the color. So, if I were to make it into a cloak, I could appreciate the color without having to wear it in a way where it actively comes into contact with my skin." It was sound enough reasoning in their mind.
Dwight
Vhun kept rigidly staring, wishing for a brief moment that she had the ability to blink. It wasn't anything that she gave all that much thought to on a regular basis, but today she felt extra self conscious. She felt like she was freaking this person out. Was her appearance as off-putting as she thought? She didn't know, but she did think that she needed to get out of her own head today. There was no reason that this person would be any more afraid of her than the average person was. Most people weren't afraid of her. It was fine.

This person was watching her with some scrutiny. Was she being watched as she wrote? She didn't like that. Writing wasn't anything she'd been self conscious about, up until this very moment, at least. Slowly, Vhun's head, which had been tilted down to her book, lifted up to stare at Ventum. She held their gaze for a moment. It was potentially something that could be seen as hostile, but Vhun didn't think so. She just wanted it to be clear that she was aware they were watching her.

*That makes sense. Some things do just feel wrong.*

She didn't quite understand the feeling, but she did have some fabrics she didn't like all that much. As Ventum spoke once more, Vhun's free hands moved back to the table.

*What fabric feel do you like? There are more fabrics of that color here.*

A pause.

*I will buy that if you do not.*

Another pause.

*That is not meant to put pressure on you to do one thing or the other.*