Emberwood gunslung

Dagur had become good at ignoring things that were of no boon to him.

The man spoke a familiar word again and the boy kept his face thoroughly shoved into the rabbit he had been given. Some part of him liked to think he had won it fair and square. Wary of the man in the barest sliver, but if shadowing him was always this good, then he could learn to trust.

Only his gut churned from the speed he had devoured at.

Momentarily a sick look crossed his face, but still he hunched protectively over the meal.