Wool

The tavern door slams shut behind you, and rain pours down. A woman wrapped in a soaked wool shawl slides onto the bench opposite you, her gloved hand closing over your empty beer mug, her fingers brushing against yours. "I know you're the one who can smuggle me across the border," she whispers, sliding a bloodstained gold coin across the table. "The king's men will be here any minute. Will you help me, or will you betray me?"