Deep down, Heldon knew that he wasn't being fair, yet was fed up with people telling him what was best for him. Out of everyone, he expected Tival to understand this.
Heldon's chest wrung sour in agony as if his stomach devoured his lungs.
As he left the forest, Ryce still lurked in the shadows of his peripheral vision. Heldon got out his handkerchief and tied it around his neck to hide the mark. Just as he entered the camp, Janz's broad shoulders and long legs swaggered up to him, holding a flask of whiskey.
“There you are. We–"
“Can I have some of that?" Heldon cut him off.
“Uh, do you really think that's a good idea?" Janz asked.
Heldon knew that of course, it was a bad idea. However, he needed something to get him through the night without feeling like he'd collapse in on himse
