“Well,” another of the gruff men began, “if the lad wants to say he’s a coal-headed, rock chewer… well, I suppose that’s his business.”
“It does explain a bit though,” another seemed to agree, grinning through his thick beard. “Only someone that addled would be crazy enough to ride with us.”
The entire company, save for Beleg, seemed to enjoy that comment. The large man seemed more confused than amused, “What does that say about the lot of us?”
Another chorus of laughter, this time with even Beleg joining in, though he still seemed unsure of what exactly he was laughing at.
A heavy hand slammed into Kre’s lower back, sending him stumbling and possibly spraining his spine at the same time. “Sit boy. Sit and eat!” The command came from the loudest speaker from among the bearded men, at least so far as Kre could tell. He was also pretty sure the backslapper was the same one that threatened to gut him just a few minutes earlier.
“What is wrong with you all?” Kre demanded, even as two other hands guided him to a seat on a piece of cut log. Though his mouth and face seemed to be protesting his recent treatment, his hands mutely accepted the warm tin supper plate that was presented to him. “You guys are absolutely ridiculous. Is that how you treat everyone you meet? No wonder you live your lives out in the woods!”
He shoveled a spoonful of the stew into his mouth with the idea of continuing his tirade, but once the food hit his tongue and he began to chew, he seemed to forget all about his rant and instead recalled exactly how hungry he had been.
Talimar, the leader of the Red Feather adventurers, asked him questions every now and again, always keeping them timed to allow Kre to answer between bites.
For the most part, the questions were basic and about where he was from, what his family did, and what kinds of things he liked to do in his free time. After what Kre thought was possibly his third serving, the questions seemed to get more pointed about recent events. Still, as much as Kre wanted to keep silent on these topics, he couldn’t seem to stop the words from coming out. Thankfully though, the words that did come out seemed to be less than fully truthful, though Kre wasn’t really trying to be evasive.
“How did you end up in the woods alone?”
“I wasn’t alone, not at first.” Small bits of the stew dribbled out of his mouth, but he caught it with his spoon and conveyed it safely through his waiting lips.
“Who were you with initially then?”
“Just some friends, Bel and Kit. They’ve probably been looking for me ever since we got split up.”
Talimar tapped his long fingers on his knee, “How exactly did you get split up?”
“Well,” Kre said before pausing to accept a piece of trail bread that he used to soak up the last of the liquid from his plate. “They went one way, and I got sidetracked by… well, I don’t even know what it was, honestly, but it kept me from following them.”
Though his voice was calm and soft, there was starting to be undertone of impatience to the elder Ylveryan’s voice. “Let us change tracks,” he said slowly, “where were you headed with your friends?”
“Well, I was headed south. I tried to move in the most direct way possible, but it was hard going. They were just along for the ride… well, so to speak.”
Talimar sighed and looked across the fire at Dain, “Your recipe doesn’t seem to be as effective as it should.”