Two Crows Watch from the Gallows Tree (cont'd)

Pratik raised his eyebrows. The idiot little lord was about to get himself in trouble, it seemed. Pretending this war was his, when he’d been the one invited to the party in the first place. He kept reading.

Pratik took a moment to memorize the key details, then set the letter down at the exact same angle he’d picked it up at. Then he looked at the next.

The next was a letter to Lady Constance Barraster regarding supplies being sent to troops stationed in the northern half of Venholm.

Pratik glanced up, assessing the room yet again. Some may call it paranoia, but it was what had kept him alive this long. He looked back at the letter and decided to skim it for any potentially helpful information it might contain.

The only useful information was that they expected to be in large supply of meat but crops would be scarce in the next few months.

Pratik nodded to himself, repeating the information in his head to be sure it stuck. Shepard. Month. Eastern wall at changing guard. Lacking crops.

He chewed on his bottom lip. If Lyra knew about that weakness, so did Loquitur. Which means there was a reason why he wasn’t exploiting it.

Pratik knew he had to report this knowledge to Ash. But part of him wished he wasn’t getting paid to spy, so he could instead just sit back and wait to watch this blow up in Tarr’s face. Idiot.

There were also a few drawers in the desk, only one of which was unlocked.

(There are also false bottoms in one or two but I don't know how to let Pratil find those organically)

(That’s good to know! He’d definitely look for that haha)

Pratik pulled open the unlocked drawer, but his gaze was on the top of the desk as he did so, searching for something he’d be able to use to pick the locks on the rest. Finally, he looked down to see what was in the unlocked drawer.

The unlocked drawer held a bottle of mead and a pile of messily folded rags along with a small booklet. The booklet was well-thumbed, titled, "1001 Innovative Intimate Images."

Pratik looked at the bottle, contemplating helping himself. After all, no one knew he was here, so no one would know who had taken it. Assuming Tarr even noticed in the first place. And he didn’t seem observant. But, then, Pratik had found some of the most clueless of men were strangely astute at noticing when they were shorted even a little. It wasn’t worth it.

His gaze flitted to the book and he sighed, not even trying to hold it back. His mind flooded with the image of Tarr sitting alone in his study rubbing one off with this book in his other hand.

Pratik didn’t want to touch it.

But he had to verify it was really as filthy as it seemed and not actually a clever disguise.

(Is he opening it then?)

(Oop I did not make that clear. Yeah he’s gonna look. If it really is spicy he’ll just thumb through it quickly. Did you have anything in mind for it or is it just an aside? Lol)

(Most of it is very spicy but there's a little note tucked into one of the last pages. It's written to him, unsigned, and says "Remember the wolf can be prey.")