*The little waif had sat patiently for a time. Her patience was raveling at the edges. Short, trimmed nails drummed against the table. Bright eyes flickered about the room.  She was becoming bored. That did not always bode well. Not for the lad, sometimes not for others. Things...came up missing. Things, became misplaced. Though harmless, the lad was most certainly mischievious.<br/><br/>Slinging his pack over one shoulder, he stood and wandered over to the nearest window that did not have a patron sitting before it. Those keen sighted amber eyes gazed out at the small village. Surely, there must be something one could find to do other than sit...idly. One so flighty, didn't sit idly for long. A glance was cast over his shoulder at the strange man who had given him spine weevils before. A story...he couldn't help but wonder just what sort of story just such a one might tell. *