He looked around and finally got one of his sticks, steadily holding onto it, he got up positioning it firmly under his armpits then headed towards the camp, the light acting as his compass.
Most of the tents were gone, abandoned, but he knew his destination. He heard a sound behind him, on turning he saw dog slowly sniffing closely behind him.
“Shsss, shsss” he tried to scare it but instead it moved closer, he waited for it then he swung his stick, his missed the dog by a distance butt it was enough to have the dog scattering away and him hitting the ground.
He moved to the last tent on this section, which had directed him this far, he saw the horse, tied to a pole the one Yebby had left for his journey to Kolmat. It raised its head as he moved closer but did not recognized him it went back to sleep.
He moved closer to the curtain and finally opened, the light temporarily blinding him.
His eyes settled on the plate Milo was eating from, scooping handfuls and licking his fingers. The man just looked at him and paused.
He had not realized he was this hungry until he saw the plate of food. When had he last eaten? The previous daughter’s reign; he could not even remember.
“Your sight is a burden to my appetite and I still need to eat; wait outside” Milo said, turning back to the plate. “I may have some left for you.”
In answer he found himself limping to the small table, and stretched his hand into the bowl and began eating, he knew Milo could possible murder him, but let him die with a full belly. He felt shift of energy but he could not stop himself he had to eat. He saw a fist moving towards him, he tried to swallow what was in his mouth as fast as possible. Then suddenly his stomach exploded as a fist landed home. Everything seemed to be freeze for a second. He watched as Milo brought another fist.
What he had taken in revolted and he threw up all over Milo’s chest.
“Rocks….I will…..Shitting cripple” Milo shouted.
Pushing him, he just landed on his butt. His minded clouded, before he saw Milo moved towards him.
Milo held him by the neck and lifted him. He could feel the man had draw energy.
“You disgusting….” Milo was lost for words.
“Please….master, have pity.” The words were bubbling out his mouth.
Milo continued squeezing his neck. He tried to push away the man’s hands but it was useless. He saw mist enveloping his sight then the gentle looking face in his night mares appeared.
No, not him again, he tried to fight back, those hands whose touch seemed to rip life out of him, he had to wake up.
When his sight cleared, he saw Milo on his knees, pain written all over his face. His eyes moved to what Milo was clenching, only to see, the man’s hands shaking and his bracemid burnt. He sat up, and saw Milo drag himself back. Tenox crawled towards the table held the sides and pulled himself on the seat, he then shifted his attention back to the food.