"We're spoiled for pine here." Tony nodded at the piece he tossed Peter--the reddish-brown heartwood of a Ponderosa Pine, bearing swirling grain. "Decent softwood. Doesn't split like hardwood, workable. Can easily fashion into more veneer."

It all did raise some interesting questions--did the natural resources replenish like the inn's resources? Those questions would get answered soon enough. Hitting some kind of ore vein somewhere would be priceless. 'Literally. Neverending mining would destabilize more than a few economies. Thank god for pocket dimensions.' "Hey, random thought but wanna do a geochemical analysis of the soil with me sometime, Pete?"

This idea was too precious not to follow up on.