"I don't know why we don't burn the lot of 'em" Said a large man to his group of companions, "Get rid of those hunks of wood once and for all," The pocket on his cloak was open and the silver coins within temptingly gleamed. Her own pockets were nearly empty and this would be easy enough.
Avery slinked behind the group of four and silently went about her trade.
A few minutes later, the men were going their separate ways and Avery's pocket was now a good deal heavier than before. Smiling like she had just been let in on a really good joke, Avery went back to the tavern. Not quite ready to surrender the night sky of the wooden interior, she sat down on a few wine casks that had been left by the door and being weary fell asleep.
__________________
~~Your finger hired the crew?
~No, that's silly. The man who lives in my finger hired the crew, Mr. Bimbol.
|