Later that evening, when we had left the warehouse, I regained my sense of pride and spoke up for the entire group. I said what everybody else had wanted to say, only to get shut down by the thought of Cyrus going berserk on them.
As I poked the tent of sticks holding up the flame we were circled around, I opened my mouth, only to feel no voice come out. Was it something deep inside of me that prevented me from speaking, or was I injured? But then, with a single confirming glance from Angel, I spoke up to Cyrus, who cooked our next meal: rabbit.
"F-Fish, can we not kill people like that?" I stuttered, unable to even meet his cold gaze. His eyes immediately dug into my head, but there was no malice, just understanding, as he handed Panther a stick with a skewered rabbit on it. In fact, he handed a stick out to everybody, and I was the last to get one as I sat across from him.
