"Excellent! I am always on the look out for new interesting shinies!"

He turns and quickly makes his way out of the inn, the other Animas once more respectfully making way for him. There's quite a few fond smiles accompanied by rolled eyes from those who overheard the conversation...or just knew the face the old shaman wore at the prospect of new objects.

Kraklaw leads them to a small hut down the way from the inn. It is covered with shamanic symbols of protection and there are a few grown into the earth around it in the form of flowers and shrubs. Bones and less-shiny rocks on leather thongs hang from the overhang above the doorway. An individual with shamanic knowledge would note the significance of the bones and stones--these are not the crow-man's shiny collection. Whatever quirks he has, Kraklaw is a very capable and respected shaman and it is reflected in his home.

He stops at the doorway, lifting aside the heavy canvas flap.

"Come in come in! But wait!!" He lifts a feathered finger in front of them, stopping them abruptly in their tracks, "You musn't touch unless I say you may! Not all of my shinies are empty and many would harm you with the wrong touch."

He cackles, "Particularly you, fire fingers. Some of my friends fear the heat of the forge and might attempt to protect themselves."

At that, he lets them pass. The inside of the hut is relatively simple, but warm. Every surface except a few work benches has a blanket or other heavy cloth draped over it, and a couple quilts indicate he takes his rest in the old worn padded chair in the corner. But anyone walking in would not see this...they would be too blinded.

Strings of small gems hang from the ceiling, there are large veined and grainy stones littered at the foot of the furniture and a few large mossy granite boulders take up the center of the hut. The large boughs making up the structure of the hut act as shelves to countless other stones. If Zrstlagd is going to find a stone he needs readily available in this area, here is where he's going to find it. The sheer law of probability dictates it.

"Welcome, guests, to my rook! Mind man, please, feel free to meet with my friends to see which would suit your needs!"

Kraklaw snaps his attention to a jagged cloudy piece of rose quartz nestled a top the central boulders. "That's enough out of you! Just because they don't understand you doesn't mean you get to be rude!"