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 to say I couldn’t…” Thansen continued to rattle on in an endless spiral of word leading you to a nonsensical trail of complete nothing. His specialty as she was learning. Our protagonist finding herself completly annoyed, finally caved in to the insanity spewing from his mouth.

“Quiet! Please just, “ she dragged her hand over her face. Paused a moment and turned toward him before adding,

“Just stop talking.”

“Well, do you?” He finished and paused cocking his eyebrow. His hands still tied, elbows still bent in the same position. He looked more withered than ever. A ting of guilt sat in her chest.

She sighed, exasperated

“Do I what?”

“Do ya deserve what I’ve got for you?”

“You haven’t got anything! We searched and confiscated everything you old fool! Or can’t you remember?!” Dale shouted from the back of the convoy. Rudely interrupting I might add. The whole group stopped.

“Oh but I do. We’ve kept in such a long time. I knew it was for her after all. I guess I could spoil all the fun but that wouldn’t be… well, fun.” He growled low at that last bit.

All at once the group felt uneasy. What would an old, withered, wanted man have for Elanor? If they hadn’t of been desperate for the coins they would have left him be in his crumbling shack. The group started whispering to one another questions. He interrupted again loudly but with more sanity. Or so he appeared.

“What could old fool Thansen have for ya? Is he crazy? Lost in his own mind again? Is he trying to barter ya? Make a trade. Oh no. A gift but if you don’t deserve it I’ll just take it back. Or maybe I won’t. Well see if we wait, we have waited a long long loooong…” he was lost again babbling.

“Alright!” Elanor shouted, “Sure! I deserve your gift, if you even have one.” She added, “Show us so you can be done with your blathering and we all can get to the next camp before dark.”

(Feel like I need more in between here but I’m getting tired)

“Get on with it! Or are you completely wasting our time again?!” Dale groaned from the back completly unamused. Mumble of agreement all around showed the groups shared sentiment.

“Some of us are hungry!” Growned Fin, ever the endless pit his stomach was. The tree’s were getting thicker and closing in on the path. Little light was coming through the canopy and dark was indeed around the bend.

Thansen bowed low before he waved his hand, spoke softly and inaudibly to himself. And when he stood up straight, well as straight as an old man can stand, a small invisible shelf appeared in the trunk of the nearby tree. There sat a small box. It was wrapped in birch bark and adorned with a small, yellow, satin ribbin. Audible gasps were heard when the box appeared. And upon further inspection the box was tagged and although it was faded what could be made out was this. ‘Elanor 159: 6-19-1013”

The day of the year her birth fell on.

“I told you I had got something for ya,” he chuckled deeply “but do you trust me enough to take it.”

All sat in awe.