(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

my pouch that day.
I made my way back to the Smoldering Corpse. The bodies of the massacre
just yesterday had been dragged away by collectors, but scarlet smears and
dried-up puddles were still smeared along the cobblestones. Those thugs
milling around eyed me warily, but none tried to attack. It would be a while
before they worked up the gall to try again.
Candrian stood as I approached him. "The tooth woman wanted you to have
these," he said, holding out his hand. "She wanted to express her thanks,
even out the balance book as it were, and be done with the damn things." In
the palm of his hand was a small green bag which he smoothly deposited
into my palm. "Enjoy them, seeker."
I smiled softly, happy for Ingress, "How did she take it?"
Candrian smiled, "I've never seen one so elated. She kept crying and
weeping. 'Home! Home!'"
I sighed, "I hope she finds her family again, or her friends."
"We gave her that chance, seeker."
I poured the contents of the cloth bag out onto my hand as we left. Ugh. Her
teeth. They rattled amongst themselves in my palm, like a bunch of creepy
ivory hopping bugs. "Hey Morte, check these out."
He floated over. "What's the chant, chief?"
"You see these teeth?"
He glanced at my palm, morbidly fascinated. "Yechhhh."
The teeth clattered as I rolled them in my hand, "Ugly little berks, aren't
they?"
"Bar that." Morte shuddered. "Would you want those things in you?"
"Come on, Morte, they seem to like you. Look at the way they're staring at
you," I teased, waving my hand towards him.
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