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The close quarters of the Scorpion Den was nothing like what Hemlock was used to in the jungle. It was cramped and the possibility of bumping into someone else seemed ever present. He stuck close to Bluemoon since she seemed to be able to duck and weave through the swarms of dragons with a practiced ease. 

His curiosity piqued when they stepped into the market place. A slew of sounds and smells entered his senses as the stall-workers peddled their wares to the myriad types of residents. It was all so...strange. The jungle was loud, there were birds and insects, monkeys, and the rustling of leaves or patter of rain, but it wasn't like this. The meats smelled roughly the same as what he was used to, but a number of the fruits were unique to him. It was somewhat overwhelming given his upbringing alone, but there was also the smallest twinge of thrill in his chest that made him want to learn more about this place.

Despite the curiosity he chose to stay practically glued to his guide. He didn't want to get lost in the crowd. He briefly met her gaze any time she looked back at him, to make sure he hadn't vanished he guessed. Still, he couldn't stop the question from spilling out of his mouth over the strangeness of this place. He tuned fully into what Bluemoon was saying, a light of interest in his eyes, and nodded to her explanation. 

[color=00a99d][b]"That makes sense. So this isn't the actual Sandwing home then?"[/b][/color] He had thought that is was a small place for the whole of the kingdom to be, but he also had no frame of reference. All he saw of the LeafSilk kingdom was burning ruins as they fled for their lives from the massive, maned invaders. He fought back a shudder as he pushed the memories away. He wondered if his skills would be useful around a place like this. There weren't a lot of plants though so maybe not. He didn't want to stay here anyway, he couldn't stand the dry heat and shifty sands. 

His attention was so split, yet at the same time focused on Bluemoon's words, he didn't notice the occasional hostile looks thrown his way by some of the Sandwings. The slight curl of stingers or narrowed eyes of a small group that slipped through the crowd; keeping, seemingly, to themselves and browsing the wares.