<strong>“Oh how the spirits and devil’s of the wind have whispered to me, their voices gleeful and horrific, of the burdens cast by “little jobs”. Of the destinies spun into motion and fates torn asunder. I am sure they will continue to whisper to me of our own thread in the loom, of our cog in the wheel of time.”</strong><br/><br/>To those watching it would appear he didn’t even look up to the new arrival, paying the man no heed. In all truth the mechanical clanking and oil meant it would have been hard not to notice the arrival. David knew Toontz McAvery by reputation if not personally, although he had a sneaking suspicion he had been hired by the man for a few performances in the past. The red wine came up and he took another sip, taking in everything, from his companions reactions to how Toontz would engage the group.<br/>