Wolfgang stirred as a fluttering sound broke his sleep. A chicken had flown onto his head, ruffling its feathers as if it had found a new perch. With a nonchalant wave of his hand, Wolfgang brushed the chicken off, watching it scurry away.
Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he noticed Maverick speaking with the horse keeper nearby. It was early morning, the sky still streaked with the pale hues of dawn.
Maverick turned around and spotted Wolfgang awake, gesturing for him to get ready.
Wolfgang slowly stood, patting the dirt off his pants and noticing his hand, now neatly wrapped in fresh bandages. He glanced at Maverick, then hurried over with a curious look.
"You wrapped my hand?" Wolfgang asked, holding it up.
"Yeah," Maverick replied without looking up from checking the horses' reins.
Wolfgang furrowed his brow. "Why did you do that? You're not my servant."
