They continued down the road, though this time, Frost noticed that the man who had hired him walked a little closer to the back.
It wasn't much, and he certainly wasn't offering to carry anything, but Frost supposed he should be grateful that someone might notice before he fell face-first into the dirt again.
He was glad these people were kind enough to let him carry their bags, even giving him water like that; someone else might have left him on the road to die of thirst, or maybe even beat him up for slowing them down.
He had seen a lot of that in the slums over the past couple of weeks, after all...
By the time they reached the edge of the hunting grounds, the landscape had changed considerably.
The road narrowed into a worn path that disappeared between clusters of trees, with thick grass and tangled bushes spreading across either side.
