im so fungry

"Hey," comes the voice from behind him. Soft but still audible enough to hear it through the various dungeon noises. "Cahara of the South."

Cahara takes pause. He turns with the torch raised high. The face of the man that was following behind is illuminated by the warm light of the fire. His eyebags have become darker than just a moment ago and a bead of sweat rolls down his temple. A few locks of hair fall on his face messily. "Yeah?"

"I know we've only known each other for a few days," he starts, somewhat hesitant. "But I'd like to ask a favor of you."

"As long as it doesn't involve fighting more guards," Cahara jokes, in a feeble attempt to lighten up the tension that had settled between them. Renee's only response is a half-assed smile, like he was acknowledging the joke but didn't actually want to laugh. The shorter man decides to stay quiet until the other speaks again.

A second, two seconds of silence

"If I go insane like the rest of monsters here you have to kill me." He says it with a simplicity that almost catches him off guard. Cahara blinks, his grip on the torch tightens barely.

"Woah, you're getting ahead of yourself," he answers. "You don't know if that'll happen."

"I accepted that I'd die here long ago. I'm just seeing how long it takes."

“That negativity isn’t gonna help you here.”

“It just seems like the only fate we can meet here. Death or become one more of the horrors. Didn’t you also think the same when you were in that cell?”

“No,” Cahara answers quickly, as if wanting to reassure him. “I knew I’d get out, I just had to figure out how.” Renee watches him shuffle through the bag they had carried with them before he hands him a white-colored crystal bottle. An ale. “Take it.”

Renee takes a second. He looks up from the bottle to Cahara, who looks back at him with a decisive glint in his eye. The taller exhales through his nose and takes the bottle from him. He pauses when Cahara puts his gloved hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll do you that favor if it comes down to that,” he says. “But as long as I’m around I’m not letting you go down that hole. You’ll do the same for me, yes?” He grins, a genuine smile. Renee remains silent for a bit before he gives a faint chuckle in response.

“Yeah, okay.”

Cahara turns around and continues walking. Renee uncorks the bottle and brings it to his lips.

“You’re a peculiar man, Cahara of the South,” he mutters, and drinks. He hears Cahara give the faintest of laughs.

“You can just call me Cahara.”