Among the Everwing children gathered around Grandfather Trafalgar, there was a boy in his early-to-mid teens who didn't seem like he quite belonged: he was much scruffier, two scars over his left eyebrow and dressed in clothes that had received so much wear-and-tear it was impossible to imagine what they had looked like when first made. He only half-listening to the story told by the old man, preferring to gaze around at those around him, first the children in his close vicinity, then at the area beyond.
It had been a few weeks now since he had vacated in his own island, and he was still getting used to the sights, sounds and smells of societies run by adults. While he was of the older kids from his island and one of the few who had memories from before they had been shipwrecked, those memories seemed to get foggier and more difficult to recall with each passing day, like some kind of dream. Not that he'd ever strained himself too much to remember. He had been happy where he'd been. Sure, there were things he thought could be better,
would be better if he had allowed to take charge, but he wouldn't have traded it for anything.
And now it was gone, probably forever if he couldn't figure out some way to ingratiate himself back with his tribe.
Still, at least he was among other children again, even if they were very different from the ones he had grown up with, and he was eager to see the results of Four Winds Festival he had heard about. People learning to fly on giant fruit bats? That sounded pretty neat, actually. In fact, a part of him wondered if he could somehow sneak himself down into those ruins and locate his own winged companion. He, for a moment, allowed himself to imagine him finding one of those bats, taming it and then using it to fly all across the islands, locating all sorts of treasure and renown. Then, when he had traveled around for a little, he could maybe,
possibly, return back to his island with all his riches, fame and, of course, his cool new steed and the Weasel Tribe would then beg him to return.
Miloh was so caught up in this daydream, it took him a few moments to notice when all the other children had left, and it was just him and Grandfather Trafalgar remaining, with the old man now addressing him about what to do with the money he had earned from his storytelling. "Errrrrrrrr...." Miloh began, glancing around him again at all the various shops and stalls as he tried to consider what they could buy.
Then his stomach gave a loud growl, and he suddenly realised how long it had been since he had eaten. He doubled over, suddenly feeling quite a bit weaker. "Food. Yeah, food sounds good right about now," he said.
@rush99999