<em>Porcelain? Jade? </em>These are treasures themselves, not things that guard them. Anba regards the fox puzzledly. Things will become clearer, no doubt, after she's done her own reconnoitering...After all, when was the last time trusting someone else's information on a job worked out well? She rolls the idea over in her head. Unknown treasure, no clear goal of her own...But still, any house on the Street of Laughing Dolls should have plenty of valuables for the taking.<em>If</em>, she chides herself back to wariness,<em>they can indeed be taken</em>.<br/><br/>"So...Wards, you say? And guards? What manner of windows are on the upper floor? Small? Large? Paned or barred?" Such elevated entryways being far more to the mongoose's taste. So few people place guards above ground level, and so few guards ever look up.<br/><br/>...And so few window-clasps offer as much protection as their installers believe when fine glass can be prized loose from its leading, or wooden panes carefully sawn.<br/><br/>Anba chuckles ruefully at the kitchen comment. Oh, it might be hilarious if her belly were full, but even when the mongoose isn't hungry she often finds kitchens worth investigation. Unlike jewelry, spices carry no makers' marks and vanish easily in the Sump's thriving black market, readily resold on the cheap to vendors who quite possibly had them on their own shelves only days before.<br/><br/>And that brief dalliance of happier thought brings her to consider other short periods of time and what can happen in them. "How long, think you, until your master's disappearance is noted? Today? Tonight?"