Chapter 1: He who has no Class
“Slow down. You’re going to give yourself a stomach ache,” Gertrude admonished as Will devoured another entire loaf of bread. “You’ll throw up the moment you have to run.”
“Untrue,” Will mouthed past the wad of stew-soaked bread in his mouth, causing the old woman to wince and avert her eyes. “The walk to the Hunting Grounds is over an hour, so I’ll be fine by the time I get there.”
“If you can afford to walk slow, then you can eat slow,” Gertrude said, pulling the next loaf of bread away from his reaching hand.
“Awww...”
“You’ll thank me when you’re not reeling in pain from a busted stomach,” Gertrude said, nose raised.
“I am…constantly not reeling in pain,” Will sassed.
Gertrude smacked him over the head with the loaf, the black bread’s hard crust making a dull ‘conk’ as it delivered its force into his cranium.
“How ‘bout now?” the ancient priestess asked.
“Ow. I think there was a rock in there,” Will said, holding his scalp and checking for bleeding.