TWENTY-TWO
Pierogi.
My stomach rumbled. It was absurd that—now of all times—I was back to craving pierogi. I stifled a laugh. The darkness had quickly swallowed me up as I followed the footsteps of the frightened, fleeing Children. I didn't know who could be lurking.
Here I was, hobbling down a slimy tunnel below the Sunk in an abandoned corner of Lovat with several bruised ribs, a damaged arm, a bum knee, and having just barely missed getting killed; yet all my mind could focus on was stuffed dumplings?
It was probably for the best. I think better when I'm hungry.
In an effort to keep my mind occupied I tried to remember my last meal and came up short. That's odd for me. I played through the meals I had eaten since arriving in Lovat. Chicken skewers. The disastrous bao yu. Mrs. Sardi
