Small. Filthy. Bare feet black with dirt. Clothes torn and stiff with dried blood that wasn't his. His eyes were swollen, red-rimmed, hollow with exhaustion and fear. He staggered toward the last knight in our line and collapsed to his knees. "Food," he begged. "Water… please…"
Everything stopped. The knight dismounted immediately, hands shaking as he offered his canteen and a piece of bread.
The boy drank like he'd never seen water before, choking, coughing, hands trembling. He tore into the bread with animal desperation. Coffi was already moving. She knelt and reached into my pouch, pulling out a massive slab of grilled kraken meat, still preserved by magic.
She handed it to the boy. He didn't even look at her. He devoured it. Tore into it with his hands. Grease smeared his face. He didn't stop until he physically couldn't chew anymore, belly distended, breath shallow.
Only then did he sag against the ground. Coffi crouched in front of him gently. "What happened here?"
