And you understand with every seed you sow you make this cold world beautiful
Following along less gracefully but not for a lack of enthusiasm, Sam hummed at Zeph's answer, looking behind them as if expecting to see crowds of angry dock workers chasing them up the path: thankfully, at least for the moment, there were none. Knowing that he was helping with smuggling business (or at least, something shady) did unnerve him a little, but Sam had been through far too much recently to care enough to stop.
Showing his inexperience though, his next question was: "...What's crack?" Asked as he hopped over a particularly wet patch of mud. Presumably something that humans would want badly, he could pick up that much, but past that he wasn't sure. "And...how do Mers pay, when you give them things? Do they have anything worthwhile for us to get?" They had to, because he knew they had a part in the operations, but Sam couldn't think of much beyond sand from the deeps that they could get that humans could not.
Showing his inexperience though, his next question was: "...What's crack?" Asked as he hopped over a particularly wet patch of mud. Presumably something that humans would want badly, he could pick up that much, but past that he wasn't sure. "And...how do Mers pay, when you give them things? Do they have anything worthwhile for us to get?" They had to, because he knew they had a part in the operations, but Sam couldn't think of much beyond sand from the deeps that they could get that humans could not.
SAMUEL
