"Richard, if you stand any farther away, don't expect me to pay for your dinner tonight."
"But I hate this damned smell of wool. I'd rather be in a latrine. A human latrine!"
"Fine, then you can have your dinner there, too. Wool stinks, but it can be traded for Silver Coins. Dung is just stinky and worthless!"
A woman in a gray tunic with messy hair was pushing a cart loaded with wool with all her might. The weight was clearly a heavy burden, forcing her to push for a bit and then stop to rest.
She was drenched in sweat, constantly wiping her cheeks with her sleeve. But her sleeve was just as dirty, so her face only got filthier with each wipe.
She cursed at the youth beside her as she pushed. The boy pinched his nose, keeping a distance of at least six feet from the cart.
Under her threat, the boy reluctantly approached the cart. He pushed with only one hand, his entire body radiating unwillingness.
