Parrot left the shop and began walking at a slow, ambling pace, looking very much like a hulking gorilla that had decided to shave off all it's fur and tattoo it's arms. It was because of his lumbering rhythm that he didn't get to where he wanted to go until 14 o clock. He had also gotten lost sometime between 11 o clock and 13 o clock. But Parrot was nothing if not steadfast, so on he had gone until he had reached the small plot of land that housed several kints that were each at different levels of brokeness.

Parrot opened the fence that surrounded the land (or broke it, rather), and headed towards the oldest of the kints. He made his hand into a fist the size of a large melon and pounded on the door. The kint next door would surely hear all the racket.

Especially because no matter how much Parrot pounded, nobody was answering. It didn't occurr to Parrot that the woman he was seeking might be out. He was content to knock until someone answered, or until she came back from doing whatever she was doing. Parrot had been told, by his mother no less, that you shouldn't go into anyone's house without knocking first. The large mammoth of a man always listened to his mother.

It had been a quiet, slow, peaceful morning. Only one customer, a sailor's wife who wanted to know if her husband was true or not. Sophie and the cards had told her what was probably the truth, which was actually what she wanted to hear. Some people liked to hear bad news, as odd as that sounded. The quietness disturbed Sophie on a visceral level.

She accredited the nervous fluttering in her belly to drinking tea on only a handful of rice, her needle a little unsteadier than normal. She was rationing her rice again, after a veritable feast a few days before, but this was nothing she was unaccustomed to. She was sewing shirts together out of what had once been a dress for Decko, whose kint was dirtier and patchier than hers. He would probably pay her in food or goods; he didn't have much in the way of money. Sophie did not bother to think about where he got a dress.

The sudden thumping caused her to start violently, and her needle slipped. She cried out a little as it pierced the skin of her thumb and she tore away the cloth before her blood stained it. "Hell," she murmured. She sucked the blood and put her needlework to the side.

She stood and made her way to her cart's door. She flipped the latch and leaned out. There, just a few kints down, was the giant, wossname, Parrot, from the apothecary. The quiet voiced one, who had played straight to the loud, irritating man.

He was knocking, continuously, on Old Lea's door. Sophie sighed.

"She's dead, kov," she called out, helpfully. "Is there something you needed from Old Lea?"

Nothing other than what Sophie said would have stopped Parrot from continuing his rhythmic knocking on the door. He paused right before his fist hit the door again and frowned with gravity that only men like him and five year olds could ever manage.

"Owes me a favor." Parrot mumbled, looking visibly upset. "When'd she kick the bucket?"

He was, in truth, a very sensitive man. And he had known Lealis since he was a child. Her death felt like a blow to the chest. The giant looked like he might break down and cry on her very doorstep.

An uncomfortable pang of sympathy made Sophie's heart ache. Hell. She didn't remember disliking this one to a great extent. She nimbly stepped down, out of her cart and shut the door behind her. She leaned against it, clasping her hands.

"A few days ago, kov," Sophie said, gently. "Went to sleep and didn't wake up in the morning. I think she was expectin' it."

Sophie hadn't been camping long on Old Lea's plot before her death, just above a week. Although Sophie had thought privately to herself that the old witch was near the end of the road, she hadn't anticipated being around when Lealis passed into the afterlife.

"Hadn't seen her in a couple o'months." Parrot mumbled miserably, wiping at his eyes which were now tearing up in a very unmanly fashion. "Hadda come down for business today." He sat down heavily on her steps. Sitting down, his head reached her waist. He looked like he very very badly needed a hug.

"Never came t'visit. Shoulda come more often, maybe. Don't ever got th'time. Always busy. Doin' work for Jasper. Coulda spared a day though. I coulda." He sighed like the weight of the world was on his shoulders and pushed the tears away from his face again. Had anyone been inclined to make fun of Parrot for crying he probably would have punched them in the face.

"It's a shame," Sophie said. She felt a little awkward, standing while Parrot sat sobbing on Old Lea's front steps. Something about his grief struck a chord with her, and Sophie almost felt as fatigued with herself as she was sympathetic to Parrot.

Sophie shuffled toward him and produced a small, gray handkerchief. She offered it to him. "If you want it."

Parrot took the handkerchief and stared at it for a moment, then threw his arms around Sophie's waste and sobbed into her shirt, louder than the woman had ever heard him speak. "AHuuuh huuuh huuuuh so kind ahuuuuuh din't know she were dead ahuuuuuh huuuuh huuuh..." His sobbing continued for a full minute until the large man managed to get a hold of himself. He pulled away awkwardly and used the handkerchief to clean his face and blow his nose a few times. He sniffed and gave up on the handkerchief, wiping his nose on his arm.

"An' now I don't even got anyone t'do me th'favor she was gonna do me." Parrot looked absolutely woebegone and he sniffed again. "Jasper'll be so man he'll be so mad at me when he finds out I couldn' pull th'favor like I told him."

"Er," Sophie squeaked, suddenly finding herself in the act of full-contact comforting. She tensed, then slowly relaxed into a sort of maternal, wordless shoulder-patting.

After what seemed like an eternity, Parrot pulled himself back together.



Sophie tried to keep the grimace from her face. It was a veritable struggle. The other kov, Jasper, was it, had failed mightily to endear himself to her in any way. It was rare that Sophie ever took an avid dislike to anyone that wasn't a golly so very instantly, but she was willing to take exception with him.

"I'm sure you'll figure out some way around it," Sophie said, neutrally.

"It's not so hard. Th'jobs not so hard. It's really easy." About half way through his plaintitive words Sophie might have realized he was asking her for help. "I promise, all you gotta do is keep this guy away from 'is house for a few-- for an hour it en't that long it's only an hour. Jasper's gonna be so mad if I don't get this favor pulled cos he has a plan an' he'll skin me. He's shown me how to skin a rabbit it en't pretty is what it en't." Parrot was looking up at her with clear, hopeful eyes and wringing his hands nervously. He looked a little like a dog who was expecting to be kicked when he begged for a treat, but felt ht eneed to beg anyway.

"What, so you can rob it while's he's out?" Sophie asked sharply, catching on. There really wasn't any other reason to lure a man from his home, unless Jasper was setting up a surprise party for the fellow. That seemed unlikely. She caught herself before she said anything else to that effect; she couldn't exactly say that she was innocent of that sort of crime herself.

And those eyes were unnervingly sweet.

She sighed, crossing her arms. "Listen, I ent Old Lea, and I'm not her kin. I don't owe you this. If I say yes, and I'm not saying I am, it's you an' Jasper that are gonna owe me, alright?"

"Ne. So he don't kill--" He stopped short and shut his lips tightly, willing the words back inside of him. "Th'house is part of it. Kathis works for th'drain. He stole our shipment. It's our hide or his. An' we en't hurtin' 'im. Jest takin' back what's ours." He mumbled.

Parrot seemed to concentrate very strongly on Sophie for a moment. Favors were a valid form of trade in some parts of the Harbor. Parrot had grown up in those parts, and he took these sorts of things very seriously. "Kinda favor? A big one or a small one?" He asked carefully. There was a hint of suspicion in his voice. Jasper hated trading favors, and he often warned Parrot about them.

"If ye ever got th'choice, be on th'recievin' end of a favor, Parrot." That was what Jasper had said and Parrot listened to Jasper. Usually.

Sophie thought about this for a while. The drain. Sophie used king's currency like everybody else, but she never mixed with Brothers, never knew anything but the rumors, never wanted to. She frowned. It wasn't that she liked the drain--in fact, it was a blight on the otherwise lucrative Old Rose--but she didn't have any particular loyalty to Hawke, either. In fact, she'd prefer it if the Brothers and their problems left her well enough alone for as long as she lived.

"It'll be a big one, I think," Sophie said, grimly. "A shared favor, you an' him both. How'm I supposed to get this Kathis out of his house?"

Something felt off to her. It might have been her natural fearfulness; it probably was. She hated that feeling, though it would only abate if she ran, and kept running, until her fears were well and far behind her. Sophie resolved to do this "favor" and then leave Old Rose behind for at least a half of a year.

Parrot considered and then finally nodded. "Okay. A big favor, shared between the two of us." He spat onto the ground, to show he meant it.

"He's supersticious. Lealis was gonna tell 'im portents. He's been goin' t'her for years, though. Wont like that there's been a change. You'll have t'tell him ye saw Lealis in th'mona or sommat. Maybe talk about chan. I dunno. Lealis never showed me wot she did." The large man pressed his fist to his mouth, looking at Sophie with worried eyes. "Sorry. I dunno."

"I'll tell him whatever he needs to hear, that's what," Sophie said, pushing back her lock of ribboned hair. "Don't worry, I can work him down."

Sophie supposed she would use Old Lea's death as a pretext. Some important thing, perhaps; she could probably reset the stage of Lealis's passing from the middle of the night to a sudden stroke, while reading Sophie's own fate. Superstitious folk gave a lot of credence to the death card, no matter what that was actually supposed to mean. Sophie bit her lip, and looked to Parrot.

"D'you know of any fami, his habits? Anything could be useful. Old Lea, she probably knew all that n' more. He would've told her, one way or another. That type tell seers an awful lot without thinkin'."

Parrot was very quiet for a long time, and then he finally shrugged. "Don't know nothin' about him, really. Sorry." He wasn't looking into her eyes. There seemed to be a brief internal struggle within himself. "But."

He blinked, almost surprised with himself. "Make sure. He's clean. Don't have weapons. You gotta keep him for at least...an hour. It's...important. Th'longer th'better." He spoke in a halted manner, almost against his will. It was clear he knew something else about this Kathis character that he didn't want to tell.

"You sure," Sophie said dryly. "No old daoa, no sick kid. You dunno if he's old or young, spry or bent, human or wick or golly. Nothing but his name."

She narrowed her eyes. "But you know he's connected to the drain, which I doubt he announces to the world, and you found him after he stole your shipment, which I can't imagine was his aim. You even pinned it to his house. You ent ignorant of this fellow, you've done your research. You know something else, alright."

"Got a daughter. She's bein' taken care of." Parrot muttered uncomfortably. "Don't know nothin' else. Name's Kathis. Got a big house. Lotsa rooms." He still wasn't meeting her eyes.

"You jest do yer job, we'll do ours." Parrot cleared his throat, "Gotta be at least an hour, though." He said again, looking at her this time. "Jest say ye'll keep him an hour."

Sophie stared dead at Parrot for a good long moment. Then she sighed. "Fine," she said. "Keep your secrets, if they're so dear. When do you need me to draw him out? Shall I nip over to his place then?"

She paused, the corners of her painted mouth twitching. She held out her hand for the handkerchief. "And I'm sorry," she said, heavily, "for your loss."

Parrot had quite forgotten about the handkerchief and he gave it back with a startled air. "Sokay. Was old. I'll miss 'er." He mumbled awkwardly, shifting his weight from one skinny leg to the other.

"On Seventeen." Parrot said, scratching his nose. "But I'll come get ye t'take ye there. To 'is house. Afore that you need t'wait. An' then I'll be here so ye don' get lost."

And in case anythin' goes wrong. Parrot thought, biting his lip unconsciously.

"Don't worry, I won't go anywhere," Sophie said, gingerly accepting the square of cloth. "Seventeen--I suppose that gives me time to work on my act, eh?"

Sophie chuckled a little. She turned and took the few steps back to her kint. She looked over her shoulder at Parrot, raising a hand in farewell.

"Well, fotamos. Give my fondest regards to dear old Shook and Hava, if you would."

"Kay." Parrot mumbled, visibly shrinking and heading out. There was obviously something that was troubling him, but whatever it was, it didn't look like he was going to tell Sophie about it.