We arrived at the castle, tired and hungry, and the sun slowly set beyond our backs, just in time for a scrap of food, grateful we’d not need to hunt for a rat for dinner. We could hear laughs and cheers in the courtyard of other travelers. There was a champ amongst them, having just won a card game—the excited chatter echoed loudly. I pulled out the cash I possessed and put on my glasses to count out what we would need. I began to pass the coins to the master of the establishment.
“Can ye handle four more patrons?”
Timothy finds the chicory plant downstream when he hears the screams. His blood freezes, and the flesh and the hairs on his arms stand rigid. After a bit, he rose, listening intently. It had become eerily silent.
Ah, probably a fox just whining, Timothy muses to himself out loud, entering the camp. He began to slice up the chicory and aloe vera to put on the burns on his leg. Who knew eggs from a chicken womb could be so dangerous?
The love of his life wakes, faces him with a smile, and pins a gentle kiss on his leg.