We kept walking.
For a long time.
Too long.
Verren was sulking.
Apparently, refusing to let him nibble on the emergency rations had deeply wounded his pride. Or his stomach. Possibly both.
But it wasn't as if I could hand those over so easily. Those supplies were meant for actual emergencies—not for a gluttonous beast who treated every mild inconvenience like the end of the world.
Still, he hadn't forgiven me.
-Rrraah…!
He let out a sharp cry, somewhere between a complaint and an accusation.
"I told you," I muttered, barely glancing at him. "Those aren't snacks. They're survival supplies."
-Grrr…
"Yes, I know you're 'surviving.' Dramatically."
I sighed, my thoughts drifting again.
My future plans were a mess.
Velra.
The Duke.
The Demon King.
The North.
Every decision from here on out would ripple outward. One wrong move, and the entire storyline could derail in ways I couldn't predict.
-RRRAAH!!
