To that, Hodjarl gave a high-pitched wheeze-- or perhaps even a whistle-- of a chuckle. "Oh my dear, boy," he hootled, looking up at him as he continued to pat down his beard. "I'm just picky. Only so many shops make their products the way I like them, and I don't quite like lowering my standards or changing them otherwise."
He raised a hand to keep Noah from interrupting. "Now-- I know, yes, some of the places I have you go to have been seedier. But you see, my young student, sometimes, cheaper things? Are better." He waggled his eyebrows in Noah's direction, the bushy whiskers flopping up and down. They almost made their own shaking noise, they were so obnoxious.