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He made himself stop thinking of his parents. Carry on. Carry on.
He certainly had a lot of valuable information, about ways to get around the forest, about the number of warriors, about where the villages where, and where all the valuables and food caches were hidden. But he wouldn't tell, no matter what they did to him. Kontarians may remember him as an idiot, but not as a traitor. This, turns out, was his battle to fight in this war. Say nothing.
He just wished that someone was here to compose a saga about it. The Saga Of Aerin Who Sucked At Stealth But Was Not In The Least Bit Scared To Be Mashed Into A Pulp, Or To Have His Eyes Gouged Out, And His Elbows Broken.
He snorted in the dark. He had to admit that this sounded like a really shitty saga.
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