Life went on, even when you weren’t ready for it. The next day came, painfully bright with pale sky on water; loud with the sounds of distant bells and workers arriving on the docks. [i]Muu’s hospital release day.[/i]  A sense of deep dread settled in Matteo’s stomach like a slumbering wolf. As he dragged himself clumsily to his feet, muscles cramped, he tried to convince himself it was just lingering effects of alcohol, or maybe just a reaction to the strong fishy smell coming from the harbor. Not guilt. Not shame. [i]Just self-pity if anything,[/i] the beleaguered youth thought as he dragged himself across town, each step feeling heavier than the last. [i]I can’t imagine what Ash will think of me after this.[/i] The worst part was that he still owed the money, same as everyone else. 

Deadlines, deadlines. There were always deadlines, and they were always later than they first seemed  (if you were just creative about it.) He’d gone out the night before because he'd thought it was the last day before dues, but in reality, the last day was still before him. 

The thought put a little more spring into his step and Matteo arrived at the hospital, still weary (and feeling like a loser, frankly) but already devising a last-minute plan to avoid responsibility. He handed Muu the glass of water he’d come prepared with (a broke man’s only “feel better” gift) and retrieved his shoes from where he’d been storing them under Muu’s bed, sitting down in one of the waiting chairs by the curtain.

[b]“I’ve been thinking about what we ought to do now that all three of us are all right to move around,”[/b] he said conversationally, tugging at his bootstrings. [b]“I’ve been making my way around the city for the last week or so under the guise of collecting petty alms, as you know—nobody looks twice at beggars, really—and I’ve been doing my best to keep an eye out for potential recruits who might be interested in assisting our party, so to speak.”[/b] The words ran smoothly, albeit lacking a little energy and being a gross exaggeration of the truth. [b]“There’s a few promising candidates. Of course, I didn’t want to approach them until all three of us were present.”[/b] 

Finishing tying up his boots, Matteo put his hands on his knees and looked back up at his blurry companions. For a moment the 6 and 1, the last dice roll from the night before, flashed unbidden into his mind. The Thief’s smile faltered only for a moment before he forced the thought away, clearing his throat. [b]“If I may make a suggestion, once Muu’s ready, how about we spend the morning with some ‘recruiting’—perhaps we can even make a small venture to hunt some small game to assess their skills for ourselves?”[/b]

...Implying they were in any position to be [i]picky[/i] was bold, but considering Matteo had no actual idea who to approach and was just trying to divert the issue of his failed “investments”, it paled in comparison to the whole. He was the Thief. He had to make money. Short of charging one silver apiece for an admission fee, getting some kind of bounty out of it had to be possible. Especially if he didn’t have to be the one to do it.