“I hope you and I could speak more of religion soon,” Derrix smiled a friendly grin at Vaeri as she took his shirt. He scratched one of the horned tattoos on his cheeks before his eyes lit up in remembrance. He nodded as he dismissed himself from the smoky pocket that Vaeri sat by.

	Derrix lifted himself back to his feet and wandered back to the bleeding boar. He plopped into the bed of clover by the carcass and took up his knife once more, slicing a chunk out of the beast's slowly cooling flank. He sucked in a breath, taking in the metallic stench of the raw meat, as well as the thick musk of the wet storm.

	He scraped a tiny stick across the stony floor under the clovers and lifted it to spear the meat through. Derrix turned towards the crackling fire, testing the sticks ability to hold the thick chunk by waving it gently a few times before levitating it about the licking orange flame. 

	Hovering the speared flesh over the fire, the fluids of the meat dripped into the flames with a hot sizzling sound.  He turned his attention to the small greenish creature that had accompanied the group while the meat began to heat up.

	“Little one,” Derrix announced plainly over the hard plummeting rain outside, “would you like the first bite?”