Down near the market two male furres in their late teens can be heard conversing. A bovine and otter respectively they're dressed as farm laborers leaning against nearby fencing eating apples.
Bovine: I'm gonna go over to the quarry and see if I can get a job diggin' in there.
Otter: Are you serious? Pullin' rock out of there and haulin' it away? I'll stick to hoin' fields an' such.
Bovine: I'm dead serious cousin, I heard some of the furres talkin' with Lord Narsuun. They found crystals down there! That's gonna be big coin, I'm tellin' ya.
Otter: I dunno, don't think I'm gonna bother with it 'till I see some crystals comin' outta that quarry.
Bovine: I'm gonna go over to the quarry and see if I can get a job diggin' in there.
Otter: Are you serious? Pullin' rock out of there and haulin' it away? I'll stick to hoin' fields an' such.
Bovine: I'm dead serious cousin, I heard some of the furres talkin' with Lord Narsuun. They found crystals down there! That's gonna be big coin, I'm tellin' ya.
Otter: I dunno, don't think I'm gonna bother with it 'till I see some crystals comin' outta that quarry.
Down by the docks a couple of fisher-furres mending their nets while resting on empty crates are chattering away at one another. The first is an old Scottish terrier, and the other an equally old deer with heavily chipped antlers which lures hang from.
Scot: Didja hear about what happened to Hank yesterday? Poor fella's boat never came back in last night, or this mornin'. His ol' femme's worried sick and back.
Deer shakes his head: Fouler's prolly got him... Hank said he was gonna go try the deep currents. See what he can find out there.
Scot blows out his whiskers: If it's Fouler then he's movin' up the river and my set-lines further down ain't gonna be safe much longer. Bastard eats anythin' that's hooked an' can't run.
Deer keeps on mending his net: Fouler's gonna tip the wrong boat one of these days, find a couple of furres able to put a blade in him. I hear he's got a hundred hooks in him an' still swimmin'.
Scot: Didja hear about what happened to Hank yesterday? Poor fella's boat never came back in last night, or this mornin'. His ol' femme's worried sick and back.
Deer shakes his head: Fouler's prolly got him... Hank said he was gonna go try the deep currents. See what he can find out there.
Scot blows out his whiskers: If it's Fouler then he's movin' up the river and my set-lines further down ain't gonna be safe much longer. Bastard eats anythin' that's hooked an' can't run.
Deer keeps on mending his net: Fouler's gonna tip the wrong boat one of these days, find a couple of furres able to put a blade in him. I hear he's got a hundred hooks in him an' still swimmin'.
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