With a heavy sigh Sand dismissed the thin twig of a teenager that bumbled his way into Sand’s shop - one of many who’d responded to the sign advertising a need for an apprentice posted outside the window. The sweaty adolescent knocked over several vials and spilled a corrosive substance on the counter, melting away a quarter of an important tax document and the wizard’s peace of mind in one fell stumble.
For several moments, Sand contemplated turning the sign in. He’d seen no real candidates for an apprenticeship all day long, and he had a sinking feeling that he might have to close shop while his mercantile golem is temporarily out of commission. If nobody competent - or hygienic enough, he added as an afterthought, wrinkling his nose as he wiped away moist fingerprints from the beakers his previous visitor tried to handle - showed for an interview, perhaps he might have to.
But what would that spell for the elf? Not only would he lose out on potential sales, he would not be able to fulfill his contract with Lord Nasher... Then again, that klutz of a boy wasn’t looking so bad. Perhaps he could call him back, maybe it’s not too late--
Sand’s preoccupation was broken then by the sound of his door opening. His ears pricked up to attention, his gaze drawn to the newcomer. “Welcome to my shop. Ahem. Please excuse the mess. Is there anything I could help you with?”