He thought she had a point. Things happened quickly in Kirkwall. Things went bad quickly sometimes. The best one could do was take what was at hand and start throwing, tipping, or swinging it to even the odds. If they had to sling crabs to avoid thugs, he wasn't going to be happy, though.

"Watch your fingers," he warned. He couldn't see all that well, the moonlight hitting the weeds and the water making everything glisten in a way that obscured what was trap, crab, or leaves. He also took his own advice, tugging carefully at the slimy muck without sticking his hands too close to the slats. "Maker, this stuff smells. I hope they haven't been eating it recently, or they'll be just as bad."