The exasperated voice of the peddling salesman called Travis faded, the enthusiasm sinking away as his waiting fingers swept the coins back into his possession.  Lips twitched as the coins were deposited in his personal pouch upon his belt and a hand moved to shove the bottle of wine along towards the lady.  They clenched instead though, and as the obvious sorceress turned her back towards him they silently drew the bottle away.  Brows twitched while fingers pinched a single coin as his inquisitive eyes inspected it.  Satisfied, Travis was about turned away when he caught sight of the imprisoned doll out of the corner of his eyes.  He stared with a slack jaw for a moment, and then swore to himself that the hideous looking doll just looked at him.  Leaving the bottle of faux elven merlot on the table he swiftly went to search out his next customer from the far end of his stall.<br/><br/>Dizzy through mead and wine, Disiyir peered out from his silver goblet imprisonment.  Blood shot eyes watched in disjointed amusement as the hand of Elisa swept him off the table.  The landscape around him swung and blurred with the sudden movement before he found himself deposited in the abundant contents of her shopping bag.  The tawny horned fey creature went to try to stand up, but found his wobbling legs failing him.  With a splash of his ass, he dropped back onto his haunches.<br/><br/>His gaze settled on one, no two, now three, then back to one misshapen doll enclosed in the glow of runes.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(147, 101, 184)"> "Oh, that looks familiar."</span>His beleaguered slurred tongue belched out.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(147, 101, 184)">  "Now, where the blimey, fuck did I put that.."</span>Hazed over eyes drew his gaze around himself as his body swayed to and fro while shifting about on his hind.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(147, 101, 184)">  "..Oh, there ya are, ya sweet nectar of the gods you are!" </span>He fell over onto his side then as his hands tangled with a clay pitcher that he sank the spout of against his lips.  The wine spilled and flowed down his open mouth, splashing out what wasn't swallowed and soaking the roots of his thick ever long beard with the royal purple color of wine.<br/><br/>He barely paid mind to where he was off to now as he let out a loud belch.  His hard ebony hooves crossed while he stared upwards at the swirling skies that the yawning opening of the bag afforded view of.  Hairy hands slid to his side and retrieved a set of pan pipes which he brought up to his purple stained lips.  The pleasant sound of a a little rambling discordant drunken ditty was woven into the air.  No one would hear it though, they never did hear anything, until they drank from the goblet.  Perhaps the doll could, but he hadn't considered that possibility, hell he didn't even know it was possessed.