Jake had half-expected a sea of hands to shoot up from these eager, boisterous barbarians. But that didn't happen. Instead, they all shrank into themselves, tucking their heads into their shoulders as if trying to vanish. The irony was, even doing that, he was still the smallest one among them.
Sure, if he wanted, he could easily flex his size to overshadow them, bruising their already fragile egos. But that was beneath him. Arms crossed and eyes closed, he waited stoically for someone to volunteer.
Except it didn't unfold as he'd envisioned.
In the blink of an eye, the crowd of recruits retreated like a receding tide, leaving Jake, who'd held his ground, sticking out like a sore thumb. Finding himself alone before the crow-feathered shaman, Jake cracked open his eyes and managed a wry smile, uncertain whether to laugh or cry.
"...Guess it'll be me," he said, a touch of mockery coloring his words.
