Darin stifles a chuckle. "Wait. You gotta be shittin' me. That's just… almost funny."
"It's only funny to you because you're not the one stuck in his own fuckin' bloodstained nightclothes."
"Yup. You're correct. Still doesn't make it less funny," he replies dryly.
You sigh. "Shut up. You're old."
"That doesn't… even work in that context, lad."
The voice of Velinor calls out from behind you. "Darin! Ye're up!"
"Much to my dismay," Darin calls back.
Velinor quickly approaches and gives Darin a rough handshake. Darin winces and grips his elbow with his free hand. "You tryin'a fuckin' dislocate my arm, Velinor?"
You and Velinor exchange a knowing glance. After a pause, he says what's on both of your minds.
"Old."
He glances up into the sky and mutters, "Just take me already."
Velinor changes his tone as he says, "Heaven knows I'd love to chat, friends, but I's the bearer of bad news."
"Spill it," you say.
"We've lost a lot of papers."
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