no subject

[ the last thing mal remembers for a month. burn him, but the more he hears about the orbs, the less he likes them. he thinks better of saying that aloud to someone he just met, instead humming a sound of acknowledgment. small wonder mal should be hungry, after that long. ]

Thanks, [ is a murmured reply as he accepts the plate, picking up the sandwich one-handed. not bad by the standards of a shepherd's son, either, least of all after a hundred hurried, cold meals on the road...when they ate at all. ]

Strangely how?

[ after a bite and swallow, he adds, ]

I've just arrived, nearabouts. I'm Rand.