Sausages crackle in a pan warped from use. An old pan. A good pan. The ranger likes things that stay useful despite their age. Sort of like him, really.
Despite his shortening breath, his aching bones, and his frequent headaches, he keeps ploughing on. There’s a group of bandits out ahead of him somewhere. Unbeknownst to them, they are leading him to their lair. When he has its location, he’ll go back to the adventurer’s guild and post a job about it. He can keep this road safe, if he can do nothing else.
But first, sausages. The young rush out to save the world before their bellies are full. The world will always need saving. Breakfast won’t make itself.
Paddy Dobson
10th March 2021