Falowik stood with hat in hand. Cook was an intimidating presence. Her eyes roved over him, not missing his empty pockets, he noticed. It was folks like her that made him especially nervous.
He stumbled over his tongue for starters, but managed to get out, "I have no coin but I'm willing to work for my food." He winced. That had been about as careful as tangled feet.
[ August 25, 2003: Message edited by: littlemanpoet ]
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