The Furry Friends had never let him down. When he left his room and rounded the corner of the corridor, the tables in the inn's dining area had already been pushed together. Amid the aroma of food, smiling faces waited around the table for him to arrive.
It was a world away from the days when he had been alone, scrawny and weak, starving and sleeping in a quiet corner of a cave.
Back then, hunger had left him sprawled there, too weak to move, and he had suffered mentally as well. He had decided to give himself a goal that was somewhat difficult, but not beyond reach, so he would no longer focus solely on his pain. He had begun gathering materials, hoping to make a piece of clothing. Whenever the hunger became unbearable and his spirits sank, he would lie on his side in the cave, quietly gazing at the materials he had collected and placed in hollows in the wall. In the end, though, all he had managed to cobble together was a pair of shorts.
He smiled and discreetly clenched his fists at his sides. First, he greeted his teacher at the head of the table, then strode over to the empty seat his companions had saved for him.
The quiet table immediately came alive with chatter.
Ruger glanced around with a smile, then dispensed with the pleasantries. He grabbed a skewer of temptingly browned fish chunks and stuffed them into his mouth. Even as his cheeks worked, his eyes kept moving, searching for his next target.
"Perhaps you should try this." Tuzel suddenly spoke in a low voice beside him, indicating a dish in front of them.
Chewing vigorously, Ruger looked at Tuzel in surprise. His voice was so low that he sounded as though