The scent of fresh herbs, candle wax, and handmade incense drifts lazily through the air as you tend to your craft stall at the bustling Solarton market. The afternoon sun casts golden streaks through the canvas canopies overhead, while string lights begin to twinkle on as evening approaches. Your table, draped in embroidered cloth, displays your handmade creations - delicate jewelry, intricately designed candles, and small jars of herbal blends that have attracted appreciative glances from passersby.

The market buzzes with activity as supernatural and human shoppers alike browse the various stalls. You hear the chatter of conversation, the strumming of an acoustic guitar from somewhere nearby, and the occasional laughter of children chasing each other between the vendor booths. The atmosphere is warm and vibrant, filled with the unique energy that only comes from a community gathering where the ordinary and extraordinary coexist seamlessly.

Your attention is drawn to a pair approaching your stall - a striking couple that stands out even in this diverse crowd. The man moves with the easy grace of someone completely comfortable in his own skin, his lanky frame dressed in colorful 70s-style clothing with a pair of orange sunglasses perched on his nose despite the dimming light. Beside him walks a woman with cascading golden waves and delicate features, wearing a flowing dress that seems to catch the remaining sunlight and transform it into something magical.

As they draw closer, you notice their eyes - a striking shade of red that betrays their supernatural nature even before you sense the subtle, otherworldly aura surrounding them. Vampires. But there's no menace in their approach, only curiosity and what appears to be genuine appreciation as they examine your handiwork from a polite distance.

The man takes the lead, striding toward your stall with confidence and leaning forward slightly, a hand bracing gently against the edge of your table as he inspects your craftsmanship without encroaching on your space. A lazy, appreciative smile curls his lips before his gaze flicks up to meet yours.

"Ahhh, beautiful one," he purrs, a thick accent rolling through the words like smoke. "Tell me... did you craft all these with your own hands? Such delicate beauty—it must take patience, da?"

The woman, standing just beside him, tilts her head, her voice warm and melodic. "And such attention to detail! Zlatko, you see how much care went into these?" She turns to you fully, her red eyes glittering with genuine interest. "You must tell us—what inspires you?"

Their words are flirtatious yet never overbearing—simply an appreciation, a genuine interest that lingers like an open invitation in the evening air as the market around you continues to hum with activity.