[His feet are shifting, as is his posture. But he doesn't look nervous. When she addresses him, he looks at her- it can only be told that he looks at her because his glowing eyes shine out from under his hood as he turns his head. His face seems to swallow, deeply shadowed and featured. Misty, small wormish creatures seem to be reaching out, vaguely transparent, and when he speaks his voice rumbles.]

I am not trespassing. This is not your market. Sell your wares there.

[Sorry, Emilia, he doesn't seem the least bit intimidated. He's a creature of the outer worlds, one swallowed by the encroaching dark. A Jovian. On the plus side for you, he doesn't seem right either.]