His skin was smooth and golden, warm in tone with a slight but noticeable luster; his movements were languid - easygoing and unthreatening.  He was a startlingly beautiful specimen, all muscle and perfect edges, but the most startling thing about him were the eyes.  They were like molten gold - Taemin noted with interest - something that his buyer would surely appreciate.  He should pretend to be disinterested or indifferent, but the shapeshifter was so alluring, he couldn't help himself. Against his will, Taemin leaned in to take a closer look, his face almost pressed against the bars. The boy sat down on his heels, still a good two feet from the bars.  He smiled shyly at Taemin, a flash of pearly whites against his dark skin.  

“Exquisite, isn’t it?” the man asked, a little too eagerly.

Taemin frowned inwardly.  The pet was quality stock, much too beautiful and valuable for the merchant to be that desperate.

“Mind if I take a closer look?” Taemin asked, always wary of purchasing damaged goods.

The merchant wasn’t very good at hiding his emotions, Taemin noted. He really should get someone to sell his merchandise for him because at this rate he was probably losing a lot of money. The poor man’s face fell visibly.

“Is that really necessary?” The merchant said, none too convincingly. “I’ll sell it to you at half the price it's worth if we close the deal now.”

Taemin sighed, feeling tired of this exchange already. Did this man take him for a fool? If he bought a defective product and ruined Jinki’s perfect collection of pets, his head would end up on the disturbingly large collection of pikes artfully arranged among the blood red roses in Jinki’s walled garden. This week had been rather trying in general and he didn’t need his head on top of a pike on top of that.  His head would reattach of course, but still...it was a rather disorienting and unpleasant experience. He briefly considered punching the merchant in the throat and just walking away. Somehow though, he was still standing here in the dry heat and still conversing with this highly irritating man. In spite of himself, Taemin had to admit that he was curious about the unusual pet.

“Why don’t you just tell me what’s wrong with it first?” Taemin said, glancing down at his watch as a not-so-subtle way to convey that he was a man whose time was very precious, which in fact it was. He had more two more galleries to go to and one of his most loyal buyers, Key, had put in a request for a rather coveted pet that was currently in the market - a small hybrid panther named Jonghyun - and he really didn't want to disappoint him.

The merchant hesitated for a brief moment before giving in. He was a pushover as well as an open book, Taemin thought amusedly. He really should hire someone to do this part of the business.

"It has some violent tendencies," the man admitted reluctantly.

Taemin raised an eyebrow. "Violent tendencies?"

"It bit a trainer last week," the merchant admitted, lowering his voice to a near-whisper.

"Recently caught?" Taemin inquired.

The merchant shook his head. "No born and bred in captivity."

Taemin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He might be in the body of a 19 (almost 20) year old boy, but in actuality, he was nearly 100 years old. Still, more often than not it seemed that his body won over his mind, immature actions easily came to him. So far, it just seemed that the pet had a bit of an attitude problem, nothing that couldn't be easily fixed with a more qualified trainer (which he considered himself to be). This man really should consider another trade, he thought for the tenth time that evening. Still, his loss could be Taemin's gain. He widened his eyes, pretending to act absolutely horrified.

"Then there's no excuse for such behavior," he said. "You might as well put it down. You'd have to pay someone to keep such a dangerous beast."

Half an hour later, Taemin was rather pleased with his impressive negotiation skills (although the merchant's idiocy also contributed greatly). In the backseat of the car, the pet was lying with its head on his lap, freshly marked with a seven digit number that indicated that he was the owner, securely collared, and heavily sedated and all for several hundred thousand dollars less than what it should have cost. He ran his hands through the werewolf's hair, satisfied to find it exceedingly soft.

"Little pup, what should I name you?" he mused to himself before giving the driver his address.