The afternoon was a hard one for Pavlos to deal with. He was searching for someone to fix a piece of material that was given to him by his late mother. Something that he had cut from her own set of cloth before she had their brother. It was a beautiful white and gold silk like material that held his mother's initials upon them. He was doing a small tedious job in the field with a few of his old soldiers when his knife had gone too far into his clothes and cut into the pouch that held the fabric piece and his carved horse. Huffing in anger he made his way into the city to try and find someone who could piece the strings back together. But so far no one had the expert like hands needed to fix it. He hunts from door to door, asking anyone that he came in contact with who the best cloth expert was. And each time he was lead to a direction he found himself at a place that did carpets or fabrics for woman. He wanted just a normal seamstress to try and give a look at his cloth article but so far no luck at all. Which was slowly starting to aggravate the living hell out of him.

After many hours nearly scouring the entire city for someone to do the work needed on this precious cloth piece, he came across a tiny lit building - the door was wide open and the smell of fire was hanging in the air. His dark brown hair was looser than normal as he was doing his hardest to find someone who could handle the task at hand. At the moment he couldn't care about his appearance as long as his mothers cloth piece was fixed or even pieces of it could be saved, that's all that mattered to him.

Upon walking in he lets his eyes wander as his shoes echo the room. The many cloths and strung pieces of wool that he could see fascinated him back to the past of when his mother would make small pieces for him as a child. His mother perhaps would have enjoyed this store very much so if she was still alive. His dark brown tunic slid off at his shoulder as he runs his hand back up his sleeve to fix it back up to his shoulder. His eyes shifted again around the room trying to find someone who could be available to help him. It had added to his aggravation that no one was at the head of the shop when he had entered it. Being a Marikas he then asserted himself within the building. "Hello? Is someone here? ." his voice held a high authority as he called out. "please, tell me that you can fix this back to how it was." It was a demand more so than a question. He pulls out the piece of fabric with the sides torn and loose as he ushers his hand up and down as if to try and draw more attention to show someone was inside this building. So far no one had come to him. Tapping his fingers across the table he sighs loudly as he paces a moment or two before glancing out the door way. Was no one here?

Pavlos was getting more and more nervous the few moments he was holding onto it. perhaps he should have wrapped it within another cloth to keep it from fraying more so than that of what it had been doing? Breathing in a jagged air he looks to the man coming into view. Why wasn't this just a weird stroke of luck? "I had no idea this was your place," he said smirking beneath his worried complexion. He cleared his throat and runs the palm of his hand against his neck as he thinks. "Well - can you at least keep it from falling apart?" he asked sincerely. "I didn't mean to come off rude when entering...it's just..." he looks to the fabric and reaches out to stroke the piece nearest him. 'its something close to my heart...' but he dare not say it aloud. Not here before another fighter, before another male.

He looks up to the man when he speaks about his mother not being here when he came in and Pavlos looks around "Well it doesn't look like a scuffle happened, So perhaps she went to get something in the market?" he said trying to ease the man's worry that was setting in his eyes and on his face. He clears his throat again as he fixes his hair. A laugh sneaks past his lips as he shakes his head "My scars never get by you, do they? I am starting to think you have an odd fetish for them." Of course, he was teasing. But he knew some men had that way with odd bodily things. He once knew a man who had a weird fetish for cuts and bruises on his own body. Odd as it may be - Pavlos also loved the raw feeling of a freshly healed bruise on his skin or even the taste of blood from a broken lip. Men were just weird in general.

He shrugs his shoulders as he huffs "I could be better, I just had two foals come from my mares last week. Trained some of the men on my spare time the other day. Dealing with my daughters. You know...You?..." the usual he added with a childlike grin. He had to put it to himself to always be more comfortable around other men or even people in general who were battle worn or knew a thing or two about wars in general. And he had to admit, in his defense, of course, he didn't dislike talking to this man at all when the chances arose. Pavlos would reach out for his fabric again and sigh as he tried not to play with it any more than it already had been. "Would you like me to dispatch someone to find your mother? Or do you think you can have it done by tonight? " he asked. Pavlos was normally to himself when around others when it came to his family or household needs, but he found that he talked more frequently around the men in uniform or in the cavalry. How odd one might think of him to do such a thing? But Pavlos had felt more at ease talking to his men and others like them.

He leans backward giving Lesley space before looking around the shop, His mother had quite the collection here. Placing both his hands across his chest as he looms in the corner out of the way of anyone else that may pry their eyes in, he would fall to silence until he was needed again. The nose would wrinkle at the smell of faint food but not enough for it to draw attention to his own belly. When was the last time that he had anything to eat? He had to wonder that perhaps it was in the wee hours of the morning light. He barely ate anything for lunch as it were. So perhaps when this was all said and done he should find something to fill his stomach with.

It wasn't until he leaned back against the frame that he realized Lesley and given away to his nickname, and it caused him to grab a button nearby him and give it a quick chuck at Lesley. "How is your mother these days? Still, dealing with your crazy ass?" he said now pointing his finger at him with a devious smirk. After all, Pavlos knew that Lesley too was no stranger to fights and brawls, after all, one glance his way and anyone could tell what his source of income was. Pavlos would reach into his slung pocket at his lower hip and opened it to grab out a small half carved wooden item. He then reached out into his breast of his tunic and pulled out his smaller knife and began carving away at the shape. His mind slowly reverting to calm himself down over the torn item he had given Lesley. After all, it was best not to brood over it and let it get the attention it needed to be salvaged.

The breeze would sway the door a bit and it causes Pavlos to look out on the dimly lit streets as the last stranglers came passing by. His mind reflected on the things he needed to do after he got some much-needed food into his system. Upper lip would curl and press into the bottom section of his nose, wrinkling it as he itched it a moment and then letting his face fall back to its neutral state. He didn't wanna chit chatter away while he waited so he simply worked on the figure in his hand. So far it was slowly turning into a beautiful horse carving. Suddenly the smell of the air changing caught his attention again. He walks to the door frame and peaks his head out to look outside. "It is going to rain tonight.," he tells Lesley softly but more so told himself that he needed to close the bay windows of the stalls to keep the colts stable from overflowing with water.