Sawtooth Spire call our waitress “honey” then they tip with ones

Marble intently watched as the woman plucked two rocks from the ground. She couldn’t see their details just yet, but oh how she tried. She craned her neck from left to right, ‘oooed’ and ‘ahhed’, jumped in place a bit. And finally, they were placed at her feet.

The first rock was typically the type she’d stop and take. It hit all her requirements: small, shiny, textured. Alas, it could not compare to the second one. It wasn’t as flashy as the rocks in her collection, but it was certainly unique. She’d never seen one as smooth as this. Marble ran her paw against the surface and let out a fascinated squeal. Her decision had been made.