After ten minutes, Razeal flopped onto the bed with freshly laid sheets and newly fluffed pillows, sinking into the softness as though he had discovered the very gates of heaven.
For a moment, he lay still, arms stretched wide, eyes closed, the faintest smile curling at the edges of his lips. A wave of emotion hit him so hard he almost teared up. How many years had it been since he last slept in a real bed? Since he last had a roof over his head that wasn't made of stone or broken tiles, a meal that wasn't dry bread or apple?
Just minutes ago, he'd eaten a hot, home cooked meal. It had nearly brought him to tears. Food that wasn't out of a jungle. Food with flavor. Warmth. Soul. For a moment, it made him forget the hatred and humiliation life had thrown at him.
But he couldn't stay in that bliss for long.
Snapping out of his trance, he sat up abruptly. His black hair fell slightly over his face as he glanced around the small room. This wasn't the time for rest.
