Ennat stayed with the Finushes for a watch or two, leaving them a handful of shell rings when he departed. The rings were sliced from small – the best were about half-cubit long – colorful, cone-shaped sea snails. Ennat thought this rather unkind, given that he couldn’t imagine a sea snail ever bothering anyone. Ha! Like many snails, those used for making shell rings were hunters and each possessed a tiny, envenomed, tooth. Ennat was blissfully unaware that these teeth, anchored to something disturbingly like a tongue-arm, were projected from the snail’s mouth with considerable force. Normally used for catching prey, the beasts often wielded the harpoon-like appendages against shell divers: simple, hard-working employees of the Lugal. Each shell ring, then, was a trophy won from one of nature’s most rapacious predators. Yet, Ennat preferred metal. It had vastly more buying power despite manifest incapacities with regard to spear-fishing. Shell rings, however, were all the Finushes expected.
Ennat knew they deserved more! After all, they'd performed a service of inestimable value. They'd saved not just any life; they'd saved his life. Unfortunately, they couldn't legally possess cash-metal. As Ennat walked he mused about how to reward them properly. A couple of animals? Chickens? Too small. And they'd laugh about the loincloth again. Those wild mule-things, what were they called? Onagers. No, they bit, didn't they? Oxen would be better. Or something. A pair of oxen might be inconvenient. So one ox.