Swiftbeak was hardly surprised that no one jumped at his offer, and as the group began to disperse to tend to their own tasks the gryphon set down one of the market streets; even if he couldn't fly, he could certainly try to learn the lay of the land from the ground, and his strength lead him to believe he required no escort.<br/><br/>Morr's meeting and the Guard's grand entrance had at least ensured some of the town realized he wasn't a wild demonic beast roaming loose, but he nonetheless found himself putting up with an irritating amount of confrontations ranging from overzealous town guards to scared mothers and, on one occasion, a merchant that had chased the curious gryphon from his stall with a broom. None had the temerity to attack him outright, however, and it was this mixture of disdain and cowardice that was most tiresome; those that thought him dangerous were content to let him move on if he did not threaten them, unwilling to risk their own lives even if they thought he would undoubtedly harm another.<br/><br/>As he wandered further, his attention began to shift to the stalls themselves. Many advertised strange poultices, salves, cures; would one of them help ease the pain of his talon, or perhaps even speed its healing? He looked about and kept his ears perked, trying to pick out distinct mentions of medicine among the cacophony of salesmen.