Quentin returned not long after Zoey had settled down to wait, clad in no more than a blanket and with a bundle of toys beside her. The man's eyes slipped first to her, then to the owner, who was leaning against the counter and jotting down trade details in his ledger. He looked up and smiled at the return of the noble though, and returned his quill to its holder.<br/><br/>"Ah, I trust you found what you were after? Good, good... Well the young miss paid up already so we're even. She even threw in a rather generous extra, didn't ya love?" The very last bit was directed to Zoey, of course, and he strained over the counter in an unsuccessful bid to be able to look down at her when he spoke. He settled back soon enough and returned his full attention to Quentin. "She's not a bad one, if you don't mind my saying, Sir. I'd be glad to serve the both of you again, if you've need of anything, Sir."<br/><br/>Quentin didn't mind his saying... Indeed he felt vaguely proud of her, not that he cared to admit it; instead he nodded curly and skirted the subject. Best to keep his fonder feelings in check, less she grew lax. "My thanks for the privacy, and for your continued discretion. I am sure we'll return before too long, a woman must always have new things... Even if this one favours gags and rubber phalluses over gowns and fine food." He smiled, one hand reaching over to rub Zoey's head affectionately, though offhandedly like one might do to a lingering animal seeking attention. There was a shaking of hands between the two men then Quentin lifted up their small, newly bought  possessions (save the collar, which still adorned Zoey) and offered a hand to his young girl, wondering if she'd make it to her feet without assistance.<br/><br/>He led her silently outside to where a small hand-pulled cabin sat. It had windows either side and up front but they were draped with heavy curtains, and considering the man pulling the box-on-wheels drew up right outside the shop door, it was clearly a service for people who particularly didn't wish to be seen or recognised. Quentin climbed in first, leaving Zoey to follow and shut the door behind herself.<br/><br/>Inside the small wooden travel space were two benches, one at the front and one at the back. Each was perhaps wide enough for two to squeeze together on, although sitting facing each other would be easier. Zoey, of course, didn't have to make such a choice. As soon as she was through the entrance Quentin pulled her to sit across his lap and curled his arms around her to seal her in place. Their carriage lurched forward and settled into an uncomfortable rumbling passage over the uneven roads. It wasn't any quicker than walking - after all that was all the smartly dressed but poorly hygeined boy up front was doing anyway - and they were to sit there for a short quarter of an hour.<br/><br/>Quentin never wasted that much time, but Zoey was in no mood for more, and besides which Quentin himself was satisfied. Certainly seeing if he could completely break her mind held some appeal... But not enough; her body would wait. "I trust you enjoyed your day? And your new toys, too, I am sure they will be very fine things."<br/><br/>One hand hiked up to streak through her hair in some vain attempt to re-tame it, but it was a losing battle and his hand soon fell still. "When we get home we will eat, then you will bath and sleep." He decreed, as though plucking the thoughts from her head. Of course he was only claiming this because of his own selfish pragmatism... "Tomorrow you will start training to be the entertainment at this party for your former friends. You only have a short while to turn from mostly obedient to, superficially at least, the perfect pet. Don't disappoint me in this, will you?" It was no question, and even though his hands stroked gently against her skin there was a sharp threat lingering.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>