Mordecai expected neither the girl's sufficiency of nerve to refrain from fleeing, nor her thankfulness for his words. Regardless, he was appreciative of such, and returned her wave with one of his own. "You're quite welcome," he said back though he supposed that he did not speak loudly enough to be heard.<br/><br/>He didn't think that his voice would have been audible anyway, as coming from behind him was an obnoxious jumble of clanking, squeaking, thumping and hissing. Turning around, Mordecai spotted the gigantic, mechanical draft horse pulling the huge and lumbering carriage. He watched as it all stopped and converted itself into a stand, making its own shop. Mordecai went to the front to have a look at the menagerie of things this man was selling. Something about him seemed familiar, though whether it was the man himself or a common trait between him and a groups of people, he could not tell, at first. He could easily discern that the man was a practitioner of illegal trades, most likely weapons-dealing, and some other 'professions' seemed plausible as well. Maybe he was an assassin as well, though prodding so far as to ask him directly was more than foolish. He continued to look about the things that were for sale anyway, and glanced about the carriage silently.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>