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Scab leant against the door frame. The meat dripped from a stick into the flames.
“Come by the fire. The sun will fall soon. It gets cold up here.”
Scab looked away from the meat to see the mountains with snow
on top, closer than he’d ever seen them. He’d often thought about climbing to the top of one as he’d stared at them from the walls of Talon. They look so much bigger here.
There was no snow close by, only rock with tufts of green, yellow, and brown plants dotted around the place. There was a forest not far away. A few tall trees that were dark at the top stood above the smaller ones with their light green leaves. Behind, the top of the closest mountain was hidden behind the clouds. Thoughts of what might be at the top were interrupted as he shivered in the chilly air, then crawled to the fire.
“Catch.” The man threw a berry across the fire.
Scab caught it at his chest and stared at it.
“Never had one?”
“No.” Scab rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. It made them purple.
“Horse berry, try it. Sour, but makes bloody good wine.”
He spat it out after one bite.
The man chuckled. “Maybe you’ll like the wine.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Silas.” He tossed a horse berry in the air and caught it in his mouth. “What’s yours?”
“Scab.”
Silas coughed like he’d choked on the berry. “Scab?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that a nickname?”
“My cousin Peter said it was my name. He used to look after me.”
“Used to?”
“The Wane.”
“Well,” Silas took the meat off the fire and placed it on a rock, “you’ll need another name. You can’t go calling yourself a scab.”
“Why not?”
“That crusty lump.” Silas pointed at him. “That’s a scab.”
Scab felt the hard patch on his chin. He’d had loads of them but never knew what they were called. Maybe Peter didn’t either.
“Probably just a joke that stuck. Either way, you’ll need a new one. How old are you anyway? Ten? Eleven?”
Scab shrugged. “Ten, I think.”
“Ha. Not that it matters, I stopped counting a while ago myself.” Silas cut the meat into four and passed a piece to him. “Here.”
Scab looked over the delicious-smelling meat. “What is it?”
“Squirrel.”
