"Thin or worn women have their own appeal Baba" said Vol silkily. “If given the proper motivation they can be very eager. And I do believe I am the perfect man to provide such motivation.”

“Of course peasant men have lots of charm too, strapping lads with bodies sculpted by hard labor. I am, after all, an equal opportunity gentleman lover.”
 
The irony of the last two words was not lost on anyone. Love never entered the equation with Vol, and he was nearly as far from a gentleman as it was possible to get. He was also getting desperately bored. He wanted Hag to get on with his little speech so they could get on with the more interesting parts of the day. 

He could have fine women whenever he desired it was true, it was his wish after all, but the fortune teller had sparked his taste for something different though she may not have realized it at the time. A little variety might be nice. Even a bitter soul cleansed the palette and made one savor others so much more. And Vol could appreciate a wide palette of souls, they all had their own appeal.

And maybe if he was properly inspired by the encounter he might drum up a new act, something to suit this chilly hard land. 

[i]yes[/i] he thought to himself. [i]a new act would be just the thing for this new town[/i]