The shop was a small section of the building reserved for selling high quality, unique little clockwork trinkets. It was far from Quentins primary business interest, but he had a soft spot for it and for its tidy profits.<br/><br/>The place itself was a small, mostly dark-wooden affair, with the twinkling wares on display on small shelves and in small cabinets around the room, each tiny cog and sprocket reflecting the light at a slightly different angle to make the whole scene sparkle. A counter occupied most of the wall opposite the door, behind which two women were bickering about the merits and flaws of a new hairdressers not too far away.<br/><br/>At Zoey's feeble voice they both turned, and each of them - one a young, slender girl and the other more middle aged and firmly built - flashed her a warm smile. The younger of the two flashed her palm in a small wave. "Hiyya, you found me. Are you Quentins new, uh... Friend, or whatever? The one he bought?"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>