Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20180310221203/@comment-30014014-20180604022550

Minutes of him slowly eating his bread saw no contentment resulting from it. Prad had hoped to stack it withanother culinary piece, alas, bread was all he has brought to the fold. He looks to the campfire once more. The attention is divided, two focused on their arguing, one fiddling with his weapon and the more dread-inspiring, quiet and secluded. A good opportunity for Prad to quietly approach.

And approach, he does, his piece of bread under the fold of his sleeve, his face hidden by his shroud. He paces in the dark close to Alburn, having noticed him savoring on a piece of meat. Surely he had a spare one to offer.

Prad ends up on the spoken one's flank, though he gives up any stealth resolve as to avoid initiating a false ambush. He stands behind, close enough for his voice to reach the rifleman, but far enough to respect one's personal distance "Excuse me, but I couldn't help but notice you have a more fufilling piece of meal to eat. Would you happen to have a spare that I can consume?"