Turning a profit isn't the only reason Andrej crawls the dungeons. Not the least of it. The only economy he cares for is the information economy, and for that, he'd need treasures to trade of course. A balance, but Andrej travels light. Extremely light. It's worth it to Dre, when the dungeon is this hot. Not weighing himself down, not carrying extra, not stressing himself out more. There's already enough stress. There's already too much stress, but for him... it's necessary. The stress keeps him going, a puppet held up by strings. He can hold to them, and they'll keep him together.

He nearly steps on the creature, where it blends into the floor. A salamander, beginning to dry out on the warm, stony floor. "You're very lost." He scowls at the beast, scooping it up in his hands. There's no scurrying, no fighting back. Andrej finds himself feeling rather sorry for it, quickly pouring some water from his canteen into his hands. Some reminder about not handling them with clean, dry hands-- it's bad for them. "Do you really breathe through your skin?" Holding the pathetic creature up so he can get a better look at it, Andrej studies it carefully.

They're valuable, yes, but also in bad shape when it comes to population. This one wasn't even a proper hunt, and Andrej has more honor than condemning it to die for that alone. "Come on, let's get you back home." Gently carrying the little beast in wet hands, Andrej carefully begins to retrace his steps. He'd go back upstairs, and return the salamander to the lush layer of the dungeon above. Not like he was getting anywhere in his search for Zora today, anyway. Running into two dead ends in one day was enough for him, and he'd take it as a sign from the dungeon itself. Bring the salamander home. Go get yourself a drink. Take a rest.