Kevin's Nachos

"Hey, Miguel! Hurry up!"

"Awright, I'm coming, I'm coming!"

Marcela clung impatiently to the shoulder of Rocco's tunic as she watched the capybara lumber casually up the hill. He'd stopped towards the bottom to adjust the rawhide quiver around his waist, and frankly, he wasn't exactly the quickest of the three to begin with.

Rocco fidgeted with the contents of the satchel over his other shoulder. "Remind me to never buy anything in Dragonbridge again." Waterskins, jerky, berries, potions, dagger, map...

Miguel, at long last, made it to the top, slightly out of breath.

"Took ya long enough," Marcela mumbled.

"I made it up here, Marcy, calm down. Where are we off to now?"

Rocco unrolled the paper map from off its dowel rod and scanned it over. "Hm, southeast, I reckon. Should—be a path that gets us back on the main road."

It wasn't twenty paces away that a flash of light hit Miguel's peripheral vision. He turned to face it, and Rocco and Marcela turned in kind. Kevin stood at the bottom of a hill with a small paper bowl of nachos covered in cheese and sour cream in his hand.

Munching away at a chip, he waved at the party.

"Uh."

"Hello?"

"Hi, multiverse people!" Kevin took a break from his snack and stumbled up the hill, not seeming to mind their confused glares.

Marcela squinted. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, you're an aardwolf too!" Kevin exclaimed. He stuck the bowl out at Rocco. "Want one?"

"I am—good, thank you."

Kevin couldn't help but admire the scenery of the shimmering strait and Dragonbridge in fog from atop the hill as he dug through the bowl with his other hand. "Are you guys roleplaying?"

Miguel cocked his head. "Roleplaying?"

"Yeah! Like sometimes, Seb and Penny go over to that badger's house and they pretend to be medieval people with spells and stuff."

"Where did you come from?" Marcela asked.

"The City!"

"...Which city?"

Kevin put a finger up to his mouth in thought.

"Dragonbridge?"

"No, The City."

"Yes, but which one?"

Marcela interjected again. "And what are you wearing?"

Kevin looked down at his clothes. "My jacket! It's comfy." How out of place he looked among their leather armour, belted tunics, and bladed weaponry didn't occur to him until it was pointed out. Still, he liked his jacket more.

Still more than a little confused, Rocco backed away from Kevin. "Well..." he started. "We—best get going. Night falls on the unsuspecting."

"Oh, can I come with you?"

Marcela shook her head. "No way."

Kevin whimpered. "Please? You won't even know I'm here, I promise!"

"Listen, big fella," Miguel said. "We've gotta be in Freyvale in a week. If you're lost, I can point you back to Dragonbridge..."

"He can come," Rocco interjected. He was impatient; a fourth member of the party wouldn't matter much, even one too busy eating strange nachos to be of much use.

And so, Rocco and friends set off on the way back to the main road, confused and uneasy.

Marcela climbed atop Rocco's shoulder and hissed in his ear, annoyed. "What, is it because he's an aardwolf?"