The last few hours of actual daylight begins to eke behind the expected weather. The ubiquitous twilight of the season of Cylus had set in properly. Soon, with Viden's natural seasonal changes, it will be dark. And far too cold for anyone in their right minds to remain out of doors, or at least without a fire. The outskirts of the Citadel of Viden is home to almost nothing this season. Only the most desperate, or the few remaining outlanders remain, hawking their wares to bolster their chances of survival. The gates have long since remained closed, the Merchant's Guild seemingly not operating as heavily as it once was earlier in the seasons. The Citadel itself observing a longstanding celebration, bonfires lit brightly within the city, and even in this case, around. Though more likely for the increased chance of avoiding frostbite, for the outskirts.
Sibyl is here, strangely enough. Sent out during the festivities on an errand for some teacher or another, the Student wades through the building snow and ice of the outskirts. Pulling the flapping clothes closer to the body, Sibyl lets out a light breath, something that is plainly seen in the remaining joke of daylight. Meat and leathers were cheapest here, where townsmen and outlanders attempt to peddle their wares in times of need and want. But considering the lack of fresh meats due to the Rangers not going out to hunt yet... Cheap here, now, would be expensive any other time of year. But that's to be expected. Costs can go up, when the object is in high demand. Sibyl thinks that's how it works anyway.
The Student approaches one of the tents, dodging through the various men and women attempting to sell off musk glands, bones, and beads. Anything that could be rendered out of a kill, really. The cart at the front of the tent had tipped Sibyl off, about the nature of the peddler within. Hides and leathers, thick enough to insulate. Some even looked to be somewhat fresh. A hand is placed on the outer lip of the tent's entrance, as Sibyl clears throat, and speaks, "Are you open? I've come to barter." Comes the voice, against the buffeting cold. There's nothing to knock, and the cloak-clad Student has never had to go to an outlander or peddler outside of the city before. Unknowing of the culture of peddlers outside these walls, the Student simply has to guess how to continue.