"Are you . . . Balaur?" I asked instead.
"Yes." Balaur continued to wipe his bottles clean like he couldn't be bothered to spare me the barest glance.
I slowly sauntered in his direction and stopped just a few meters from him.
"Why are you still cleaning your cups when this town is going into ruins?"
"None of your business."
"Could it be . . . you're packing?" I said as I roamed my eyes on the barrels that were held together by ropes. There were also wooden boxes on the side full of items and fruits.
"How are you going to get out with so much stuff to carry?" I tapped my chin and wondered. "The roads are cut. There's no secret passage here, and there are no waters to sail on boats. So the only way . . . is to fly."
