Four men march through the brisk afternoon toward the tell-tale signs of campfire smoke in the distance.
Three of the men are heavy armed, with short swords, bows, and daggers. The last man has his hands bound, his ragged clothing paling in comparison to his captor's armored finery.
Scowling, the prisoner glares at the two men behind him, who give as good as they get, glaring right back.
They continue in silence for a stretch, the only sounds being their tramping feet.
Finally, the prisoner breaks the silence:
"I really didn't know-"
Before he can even finish the thought, the guard in front of him calls out, not even turning around:
"For the last time, it has NEVER been acceptable to look into people's pockets without permission, even if you 'aren't going to take anything.'"
The prisoner snaps his mouth shut and stares at the ground ahead of him as they make their way towards camp.
What do you mean it's not okay?
Three of the men are heavy armed, with short swords, bows, and daggers. The last man has his hands bound, his ragged clothing paling in comparison to his captor's armored finery.
Scowling, the prisoner glares at the two men behind him, who give as good as they get, glaring right back.
They continue in silence for a stretch, the only sounds being their tramping feet.
Finally, the prisoner breaks the silence:
"I really didn't know-"
Before he can even finish the thought, the guard in front of him calls out, not even turning around:
"For the last time, it has NEVER been acceptable to look into people's pockets without permission, even if you 'aren't going to take anything.'"
The prisoner snaps his mouth shut and stares at the ground ahead of him as they make their way towards camp.