Wisp fondly recalled the memories as he took inventory of what he had taken from them. The little thieves had enjoyed a prosperous morning: ten coppers, four silver, and an old Khataran coin. Wisp sat down on the side of the street to wait, observing each person who passed with suspicious eyes. The thieves would be back soon. Moments later he spied the little urchins making their way back through the crowd, darting in and out of the heavy traffic, while arguing. The taller one was busy berating the other two, blaming them for their misfortune. Wisp chuckled as he listened. He could discern their high-pitched voices even above the din of the city. "It's your fault, Tema. You bumped me just 'fore we hit 'im." "I never bumped nobody in my life that wasn't s'posed to be bumped. I'm tellin'