This conversation was not going the way I expected, but there was something intriguing about this man with no eyes that made me want to hear him out. Mostly because he sounded calm, and when surrounded by madness, I like picking the calm road, even if I knew this one was paved with poison.
The stranger was silent, and I asked, "And when they say yes? Those you meet at other fires."
"Then we talk for a while, and then I move on." He shrugged. "It is not much of a life, but it is the one I have."
He held his hands out to the fire. He had long fingers and very clean nails. I was fairly certain he could not feel the heat, as his hands drifted too close to the flames and stayed there, even as I began to smell roasting meat.
