he thought for a second, sitting down.

"well, i said i could hunt, but as i said, its difficult to do anything very exact, so if you wanted something clean i'm not good at that. i can do, uh, this-" he saud, pausing to lift up a portion of his shirt to reveal his side. he took a second, feeling something out, before a hole opened in the flesh and he pulled out the pretty golden pocket-watch. "i can do that! if you need me to carry somethin secret somewhere i can do that for ya!" he hummed. "i can also create pictures in my book, as i said. i also know how to annoy people, but that's usually not intentional" he chuckled.

spinning the pocketwatch around his finger, he looked up. "is that good?"

"When I speak"
When I think

The Collector stared at Barnabus. He didn't speak; he didn't even blink. He simply stood, rigid and silent, for a long--a very long--moment.

His usual charming demeanor had vanished, and when he did at last speak, it was with slow, mild reproach. Crimson eyes dipped down to regard his own claws, then swept back up to examine Barnabus with what might have been veiled disdain.

"There are few trades that I would actively decline, my new little friend. And even fewer that I would consider a waste of my time. As we are still... strangers, hm?--I will give you information you must not have been granted, yourself. That is: those who come to me... offer something of value for something that they want. Something precious. You come with very little to offer. 'Hunting'... anyone can hunt; not to diminish what I am certain are spectacular hunting skills," he added, deadpan and dry. "But this is not worthy of my time, nor of trade. Now tell me: would you like a bit of free advice on what to do, what to gain, what to ask for going forward..? Perhaps you might return another time, then, with something a little more..." A clawed hand gestured. Was this a sneer beneath the hood-? It sounded like it. "...Worthwhile?"

@Barnabus