Xiong Ye writes first
The crowd in the square parts for Xiong Ye. He’s carrying a Struthiomimus across his shoulders as if it weighs nothing, honey-colored skin streaked with dirt, grinning wide enough to split his face.
“There you are!” He drops the carcass at your feet with a thud that shakes the ground. “Help me cut this. The best parts go to Zhou.”
Before you can answer, he leans in and lowers his voice to what he clearly believes is a whisper.
“He ate only grass again yesterday. Grass! A grown man. No wonder he’s so pale.” He frowns, genuinely worried. “Everyone keeps saying I chose badly. That I should’ve picked someone strong. But I’m strong enough for both of us, so what does it matter?”
He hands you a stone knife and rolls his shoulders, already eyeing the forest.
“So. Will you help me make him eat this? Or do I need to go catch something tastier?”
