#in!character

All I know is that she sent me too much damned food. How am I gonna eat this on my lonesome?

“So be rude.” Tick said, not quite seeing the problem. He was rude all the time, and it never did him much harm--besides a boxing or three to the ears. Those above were unnaturally preoccupied with being polite, tip-toeing around one another. He didn’t understand it. Tick picked at a scab, before asking, “What truths d’y’ learn, anyhow?”

M’hungry.

Tasted nasty. Don’t like ‘em tart, like ‘em sweet.

“I guess.” Tick shrugged and bit into the apple he carried, the tart juice bursting into his mouth. He made a face and tossed it into the icy river nearby, watching the currents pull it away before he glanced at the other beside him. “So’s how’d y’ figure it out, huh?”

Tick wasn’t likely to draw attention to the Nord, not when it meant he’d be drawing attention to himself. He crouched beside him and double-checked that his hood was still covering his face, whispering, “F’r what?”

Tick let out a scoff. “S’good advice. Can’t go wrong w’ it.” He looked up at Manarion, a frown playing across his face. “...s’wrong w’ my advice?”