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Summary
Matted, unkempt hair framing a tiny gaunt face, too dirty to subscribe to any colour. A face that Hosea first thinks is dark skinned, but realises belatedly that it’s just that dirty. Dried blood cakes the boy’s cheeks. Naked, crouched, smelling and moving for all the world like any other wild animal, he tears into some jerky rations Hosea bought a couple towns back like they’ll disappear any second. It’s the desperate urgency of needing the food gone as soon as possible because otherwise it will be taken. He hardly breathes for stuffing his grimy face. It’s unsurprising coupled with the fact that the cuts of dried meat look bigger than the boy’s ribs, of which Hosea can see each and every one plainly jutting through his tortured skin. He looks all of forty five pounds, with five being attributed to muck.
Hosea’s breath all leaves him at once, but neither of them make a sound. All the same, the boy’s head shoots up, meeting their eyes with wide, startlingly pigmented eyes. Hosea hardly sees him move, but in the next couple seconds he’s gone, jerky and all.
(Hosea and Dutch find a boy who is maybe probably human and likes beans.)
Series
- Part 1 of The Van Der Linde Wolf