Chapter 38

"We head north the whole way, between the Izbella Hills. Basically walking the entire length of Serene. Bout fifteen miles deep there's a sharp left, and Wren is just a few yards west of there. Any questions?" Blayse said, puffing his chest out, happy to be in charge.

"Keep that asshole away from me," I requested to Blayse.

"I'm not going to bother you child-killer, I just want to get home."

"Odd choice of words for an insult," Blayse chimed in.

"Can the truth be an insult?"

The first three miles was quiet, aside from Blayse grunting every now and again. He'd lost his pouch of rice paper and tobacco. And like any smoker, when you refrain from your habit, all the tar, sickness, and phlegm comes flying out. Not to mention the short attitude, which he substituted with the constant grunting as if he was cursing us out in his head.