She set the figure down on the counter gently, groping through her bag for her wallet as the shopkeeper came to the counter, wiping his big hands on a cloth.
"How much?"
He looked over at her, blankly. "You're the first person in ten years to take interest in that old thing, kid. Why you want it?"
"Erm," She glanced up, perplexed. "I... don't actually know."
"It's yours, then."
"Pardon?"
He laughed. "Ten years ain't done that thing any favors. 'Sides, I'm starting to think it's cursed or something."
She cocked an eyebrow, and he sighed. "Look, last guy that wanted that thing was a collector. Before that... nothin'. Not even the people who made the thing wanted to keep it. Frankly, I don't want it in my shop. I'd rather it was with someone who wanted it."
"But I--"
"Kid," he started, setting his hands down on the counter. "I don't believe in them stories that the guys who sell these tell, but I think it chose you. For what, I dunno. Just take it -- 'Sworthless to me, anyway."
The girl nodded her thanks, grabbing the statue and shoving it back into her bag, before walking out.
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