Snowforest Taiga a wandering soul Traveling a well worn road

The young man had begun to come out of his shell before John, a touch of generosity in return. Boris had eaten his share of the meat, then passed it back to John, insisting that he eat too. “You are very welcome. And you’re right, thank you, Boris.” He said gratefully, then dipped his head to silently pray a short prayer. Upon opening his eyes, he ate the last half, finishing with a lick of his chops. Boris thank him for the compliment on his name, telling that his mother chose it. “Mothers’ are good at many thing, especially names.” He gave a chuckle, then his expression softened, it seemed as if Boris had been subtly asking something. He carried on causally, but he had an idea of what the young man was asking. “It’s okay. There had been turmoil, our group was separated, some went their own ways.”
A spirited smile lifted the corners of his lips “I was, but I believe a journey is best shared with others. Wouldn’t you agree?”