Ethan watched Micah finish eating before finally breaking the silence. "You're about to tell me there's a ten-thousand-year-old Plumevine growing somewhere nearby, aren't you?"
Micah froze, the last bite of dried meat still in his mouth. He swallowed hastily and stared at Ethan in disbelief. "Uh... how did you know?"
"I also know your name is Micah, and that you're a Rune Weaver." Ethan smiled at him.
"Uh..." Micah opened his mouth, then closed it again. For a moment, he could only stare at Ethan, completely at a loss for words.
Ethan continued as though he hadn't noticed the man's bewilderment. "You're telling me about the Plumevine because it's guarded by a magical beast, right?"
Micah nodded slowly.
"A mere fourth-tier magical beast. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't pose much of a threat to you. But someone stole your equipment, leaving you without a proper weapon, didn't they?"
Another nod.
