Black Clay
It was the color that caught his attention. Erend had walked past that stall probably a hundred times in the market, but the black surface among the usual red and orange drew his eye and slowed his steps. When he looked closer, he saw it was a small pot or maybe a vase. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was formed from solid black clay.
"Unusual, isn't it," the Carja merchant said and Erend nodded. "It was a fluke really. Initially, I was going to throw it out, but there was something about it."
And there was something about it. Erend held it in his hands, rubbing a thumb over the smooth glazed surface. "How much?"
When Aloy came through Meridian a few weeks later and stopped by Erend's house, it was to see the black clay pot sitting prominently on his table, several stalks of red Valley's Blush flowers perched inside. She quirked an eyebrow and he shrugged.
"Saw it in the market one day," he said and left it at that.
Don't know if I'm pleased with this one really, but there it is.
