Thansen’s hands, wrinkled and boney as they were, reached out and pointed a single, jagged, dirty, brown figernail in his captors direction. His hands shook ever so slightly but it was clear who it was directed at. He chattered on,
“Maybe ya don’t deserve what a got for ya. Not many do, or do they? Well, I guess you’ll never know unless I tell you which I would. But I rather not. Though that’s not...