The two searchers come upon the pile of crates, and they look at each other with skeptical expressions. The elf speaks up first, lip curled in a faint sneer. "Whoever was out here was certainly clumsy," he says, prodding at the splintered crates with a toe. He looks around the alleyway once more, eyes narrowed. "Trying to look in that window, I'd wager."
He gives a short jerk of a nod toward the window. "I doubt he'll like the sound of that. We might have to move the whole operation."
The larger man grunts, speaking in a deep, gruff voice. "We move all the time. We're used to it. Lots to do, no time to sit around and wait."
They continue on down the alleyway, and round the next corner, disappearing from view.