"That's one way to greet your savior," Min replied, sheathing his curved blade.
Zera was looking around when Min twisted his ear.
"Ow! Ow! Ow!"
"What's the first rule of hunting?" Min asked, twisting his ear again.
"Hit and run, ow!"
"And what did you do?"
"I get it," Zera replied, rubbing his ears. "I should have left and returned later for the spoils."
He looked at the three corpses around him. Instead of feeling happy, he shook his head in frustration. Killing so many direwolves was a waste.
They'd rot within a day, and usual preservation methods wouldn't work on them. There was so much meat; if only they had a fridge or spices, they could have preserved it.
Min noticed Zera's gaze and ruffled his hair. The kid was only seventeen, yet he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
In some ways, they were more alike than the rest. It was also why Min took the siblings under his wing.
