Ivanna Qualey

The atmosphere in the hall felt slightly unusual.

Braydon Neal and Wilma Nilles sat quietly at the table, eating in silence.

Every so often, Braydon would place food into Wilma's bowl.

"This drumstick is very tender," he said softly, placing it in her bowl.

"Yes," Wilma replied, picking up the drumstick and eating it silently.

A flicker of emotion suddenly surfaced in her eyes.

This warm yet steady feeling—was it... home?

"Do you have a family?" she asked.

"My parents were killed when I was young. My master found me and brought me up the mountain," Braydon replied, shaking his head.

"Your master must have doted on you," she asked again.

"He doted on me a lot," Braydon murmured after a pause.

"Why haven't I seen your master this time?" she pressed.