How much is that doggie in the window (Bjorn sale)

Dag had been wandering the aisles, keeping tabs on the other merchants. He had sold out of his wares quite quickly, but brewed items were always a hot commodity. Plenty of wolves liked to turn up their noses at it when they were with a group, but many of them crept back later in the day by themselves to purchase his drinks. It was the nature of the beast.

Valkyrie had instructed him to drive up any auctions that seemed to be lacking interest. He hadn't deemed it necessary until he saw the strange beast panting at the auction stall. Dag was, quite truthfully, stunned that the beast didn't have more of an interest in him. Wasn't the mystery and allure enough? Hell, he even fancied the thing as a pet. They could commiserate over their shared fluffiness. "Ah, three casks of mead and two fragrant satchels for dispelling odors," he called, feigning a true bidder's excitement. Dag didn't want to risk giving himself up by signalling to Valk, but he desperately wanted to wink at her... or something. Did she know how irresistible she was, playing the stern little auctioneer?

He grunted at the big, saber-toothed fellow in acknowledgement and sneered at the spunky, brightly colored thing. She didn't seem to know that you needed to speak up if you wanted to procure a deal. Ah well, she'd learn.