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"Sorry! Sorry!" A different man, red-faced, jogged over with a cardboard tray and a big, golden, steaming goose leg. There was some green sauce pooled by the side of it. "They sent a guy around back. Sounds like we're getting inspectors—"
"Inspectors? You've gotta be—"
"It's not just us. They're coming around to everybody. But they'll be here—"
The goose-seller shot Scott a hard look and pushed the tray towards you. "Enjoy! Come back a third time!"
"Um," you said. "T— yes. Thank you."
And that was how you wound up huddled on a bench with goose fat around your mouth. You wipe it on your sleeve, tantamount to spitting in your Aunt Ruby's face, and swallow. It's not real or anything. You know that. But God, it tastes good.
>[+2 ID: 9/14]
Even the mysterious leaf sauce proves a positive addition. You're so good at selecting things. So, even though you have no idea where anybody else is, you're certain you'll select the exact right place to search for them! Yes! Positive thinking!
>[1] Wander the market. It's where you are already, it's easy to search and navigate, and it seems safe. Maybe the others will have stuck around here too? (Especially if Gil got dropped nearby to you.)
>[2] Venture out onto the ice. It sounds like that's where most things are happening. Also, you feel like it'd make more sense for Pat to be tormented somewhere out there where less people are.
>[3] Loiter around here, finishing your meal and keeping an ear out. You're curious about these 'inspections' going around.
>[4] Write-in.
