To market, to market

The boy is innocent. Distractible. Jael is grateful for that, offering only a sheepish smile in return. Her ear still remains trained on the cows themselves, knowing why they lingered in the area. Eyes on the prize, right? Hyperaware of the situation, she can't help herself. Jael exists at the intersection of selective breeding and trauma (generational, otherwise). in a way that makes socializing hard.

Oh great, a second man that shared a face with the one who threatened to eat her for no reason. At least by now, Jael has fixed her face. Though her keen gaze flickers over him as well, she's reminded herself that the intensity... creeps people out. Dial it back. Be socially acceptable. Wear the mask for a little bit, you can melt down later. Abraxas help her, she wouldn't reflect badly on Modesty in public.

She would keep the boy busy while the adults did their talking. “Can we have two please? You can pick out two necklaces if that sounds fair.” Jael speaks to Wylan, her tail giving a little twitch. A different mask than the one she wears with Ken or Sid, gentler, though she still speaks to him nearly the same as she would a friendly adult. Moving to uncoil the necklaces from Modesty's bag while she dealt with alpha conversations, Jael is grateful she can at least be useful here too. Still, she keeps one ear out for the cows. Still listening for coughing, though satisfied she hasn't heard any yet.

“Speech.”