Skin in the Game [closed]

[Melodia]

He sighed, knowing he wouldn't get anywhere with her on the issue.

 

"Fine...I'll settle."

 

He crossed his arms and looked around. Scowl was still on his face.

 

"See? I'm settled."

 

Turning back to Zhi, he asked with a polite yet somewhat grumpy tone, "So where is this person of yours, anyway?"

[Zhavi]

Zhi tucked her chin and called out: "hear that? No more reason fer yer skulkin', old man. I've questions t'ask."

 

Silence greeted her words, then a low chuckle. The Keeper who came out from the shadow of the alley was of advanced age -- unusual to see in this part of the city. He pushed a cart before him, and it was almost unnatural how quiet the thing was. It was packed with crates of various bric-a-brac and bundles of fabric that looked grey and featureless in the dim light. He had a lantern with him, hung over the edge of the cart, which he lit with a few flicks of the flint and steel he carried with him.

 

He was stooped, and walked with such deliberate care and stiffness it could almost be assured his joints were swollen.

 

"Holding court at me stall, are you?" His voice was low and rumbling, with that characteristic rasp some men gained with age.

 

"Waitin'." There was no bite to the retort, only tiredness. Zhi looked from the miqo'te to the lalafell, and back. "This's Flit, an' this's Keto'to."

 

He nodded as he began to unload his cart onto the various crates, arranging things to some internal compass.