The shop that Davante ran held weaponry from all over the world. The warlock's travels sent him in all corners of the earth; from the near east, to "down under", to the great white north, and all over the orient or the heart of the birth of civilization. Even if there were places he had not visited, they were represented on some of the black markets he frequented in any of his typical travels. Many of the markets in the Middle East offered treasuries of weapons older than many countries themselves, dating back to ancient civilizations most only had the pleasure of reading about. Davante always enjoyed these places as he was able to rifle through history and find relics of fantastical times and places to let his mind wander and tamper with these relics to produce an artifact or object as mesmerizing as it once would have been. Often, he enjoyed tampering with the weaponry enough that some had very mild special powers, such as weapons that fended certain kinds of elements. Through the use of his magic and surprisingly artfully creative mind, Davante was expertise at his craft and produced weapons, artifacts, and relics that were becoming more and more widely renowned.

Granted, this reputation wasn't exactly for his superb customer service.

At first, the hunter now dubbed Emerance, had perused the shop quietly as if it were a leisurely browse on a bored afternoon as if she had nothing to purchase, and no motive other than curiosity. Many customers wandered into the shop with their desires for exotic sights fueled by curiosity, not by the desire to purchase some form of a weapon; an experience Davante often ignored rather than serviced. If they were merely curious, what use did they have for the warlock? He wouldn't have given them straight answers, as often the curious browsers were simply human and wanted nothing to do with the magical, supernatural world that the weaponry would aid them in. Instead, he generally waited for the shop owner to take interest in those kinds of customers, busying himself with whatever work he hurriedly adopted. Originally, he had planned on that tact until Emerence had questions or wanted to purchase something, but Raven's appearance led him on a different trail. Although she had come bearing gifts, Davante sensed there was another reason for her arrival. Had she noticed the hunter coming in, and ducked into the shop to check her out? Raven knew Tobias spent a lot of time there, perhaps that was her reasoning. Whatever it happened to be, Davante found himself appreciating the smell of home baked goods for one, and secondly? His recent track record around Hunters was doing him no favors. It was nice to have an attack wolf, for lack of a better word, in his presence.

The blonde woman looked as if she had been slapped in the face by Raven's words. Her expression looked almost wounded, causing a slow almost appreciative smirk to draw the man's lips. The acid tongue of the she-wolf was near perfect in timing, though she never gave the Hunter cause for a rise. Animalistic instincts, he was learning, were important in dealing with were-creatures, especially the kind who spent more time in their animalistic skin than in their humanoid flesh. He remained silent, his brilliant, crystalline blue gazed resting heavily on the Hunter as she desirously stared at the jewel emblazoned swords resting soundlessly behind the glass in front of her. Those weapons were perhaps some of the oldest in the shop, save for the shorter knives that had been rebuilt from those splendid black markets of the East. They all had stories, almost like -... Davante had to stop himself from the thought of the wand shop in Harry Potter, the nickname from another hunter all too close to the surface. Though amused, he was more inclined to let Raven continue speaking with the hunter as she had provoked conversation, and it wasn't necessarily up to him to butt in; not if he was attempting to show her the respect she had initiated by walking into his shop.

It is only when the woman's voice slides into the red territory, does Davante put his work down and change locations behind the counters. He is no longer willing to stand by the interaction, especially as the Hunter's agitation was growing. It's evident to the warlock that his gaze and suspicion has made her uncomfortable, and coupled with Raven's presence? It was enough to make anyone squirm.

"She offered to help you find something, Emerence. There was no impending threat," he spoke slowly, deliberately, as if the venom he often harbored was being kept at bay, even only if for the moment. "We like to think this is a ... friendly, supportive environment. See all of our strategic interpersonal support tools, hanging from the walls?" Davante's voice was marred with a dark humor, curious to see how the women played together. He wondered if Raven had noticed the meat hooks hanging from the ceiling over the counter that Tobias often called his throne. However his attention was instantaneously struck back on the hunter as her words condemned both Davante himself and Raven's actions as insidious.

"It is often neutral ground in this shop. If you continue insinuate even intent to harm either myself or this woman, I will give you a very good reason to steal a weapon and run. I will not tolerate threats of any kind." Davante's voice had not lost the deliberate edge, but instead had adopted a commanding, authoritative tone that had a hint of that venom in it, held at bay only by the gentle touch of Raven's shoulder to his. He returned silent, his stark, predatory posture softening at the way Raven's eyes met his. Quietly, Davante leaned back against the counter as if he took the roll of "watch dog".

"Introductions are hardly in our inventory. Lucky for you, this one comes with a product description: My name is Davante Dorian, latent sociopath, who is far more likely to drive you to murder than she is," He nodded towards Raven. She added an effortlessly level headed facet to the situation, and I quieted immediately when she took control. Upon her request for certain blades, Davante nodded amiably to bring her requests, pleasantly surprised by the knowledge of the weapons. It was an impressive handful of names she knew, and Davante eagerly attended to the case where these weapons were harbored before setting them out in front of the women.

"There is some magic in them, as soon as you explain your methods, we can help you pick the proper blade," Davante said, his voice far more even and lacking that dark humor he had kept before. Raven was surprising him in a more than pleasant way, and he was happy to hand the reins to her, even if only to marvel at the idea she should have a job...