That, Daav suspected, was something of a burst of eloquence for Yulie Shaper. And a non-trivial effort it was; the man was breathing hard, as if he'd run a good, long distance.

"I think your advice is sound," he said, soothingly. "I wonder, though, how we would arrive at a quantity of dirt sufficient to the task. Have you any that you might wish to sell-- or barter?"

Yulie Shaper frowned down at his land, brow furrowed. Daav waited, arms crossed on his knees.

"Melina," the man said abruptly.

He looked up at Daav and nodded once, decisively. "You want Melina Sherton. She's been moving a lot of dirt lately, on account of the new road." Another nod. "I got to go down her turf next day, two-day, for market. I could maybe let her know there's an interest."

"That would be...neighborly of you. I cannot commit Boss Korval, of course, but I will ask after intentions. When I have an answer, may I bring it to you-- here? Or is there a place I might leave a note?"

"Gotta get the nod from the Boss, sure," Yulie Shaper said, coming to his feet in a lurch. "If I ain't obvious when you come 'cross here, leave a note up the house, on the door. I'll find it." He took a hard breath, seeming about to say something more. Daav kept to his crouch, looking toward, but not directly at, the other man's face.

"You don't hurt the cats," Yulie Shaper said finally.

"Indeed, no. I am very fond of cats; all of the family are."

It seemed that some of the tension left the man with that assurance, though by no means all of it. He nodded again-- "That's good, then. Good cats, I got."-- and without further ado, he spun on his heel and marched off, grabbing the rake from its lean against the tree as he went by.

Daav counted to thirty-six before rising, grimacing slightly at the complaint of stiff muscles.