"Whoo," a wind suddenly blew from somewhere, passing through the sewer and causing the campfire in the center of the camp, originally for cooking, to flicker tantalizingly. Pannis, who was on night watch, reclined half-sitting against a mound of everyone's packages, eyes unfocused as they aimlessly stared straight into the empty sewer. His right hand occasionally picked up some food from his side and stuffed it into his mouth subconsciously, as if this had been ingrained into his behavior.
A soft footstep echoed from behind him, encapsulating a distinct metallic texture in its sound. Upon hearing it, he knew instantly who it was.
"Among us, you are the most severely injured, yet you refuse to take rest." Pannis's vacant gaze refocused, and he uttered without turning his head, "You're not hungry again, are you?"
