Gold Seashell

From across the smoky, stinky inn, his tooth spoke your name. The glint caught your eye and somehow your ear. All boils, bones and beady eyes, but with one beautiful gold tooth. It sang to you like a siren. "Step back" he hissed. "Easy, Friend. I wish you no ill", you tried to calm him. "I'm no fool. I can see it in your eye. Ye want me lucky tooth!" It reminded you of a Gold Seashell you once saw at Beggars Run. A linen blend, breathable yet robust enough for more formal occasions under the sun. You place your hand on his bent shoulder. "Be at ease, my friend." Slowly he turns. Mid sentence, you snatch his tooth between your thumb and forefinger and yank! "Arggggh!" Shoving him to the floor, you dashed out onto the cobbled street. Down a dark alley, your heart sinks. This gold is NO substitute for the GLORY of that cloth. That gold seashell.