Clayton's right ear twitched at the badger's remark. Having shipped spices to Arkon has given him a little experience with the political dogma that plauged the kingdom, but he rarely took the time to focus on the recent events. To him, every powerful nation was the same, and Arkon was no different. Frockler's concern for his young rambicious employee wasn't Clayton's concern; if the badger was that concerned about the kid, he should keep a tighter lease around the fool's neck.
"If I see the kid, I'll have him accompany me back to the ship and make some use for his young muscles. I'll take the crate and place it over at your warehouse and when I return, I expect you to have those papers ready."
Clayton walked confidently by Frockler towards the door, his eyes never leaving the badger's gun. He opened the door and exited the office building into the chilled morning snow. Seeing the cargo crate, Clayton hoisted the crate onto his shoulders.