As a surprisingly comfortable silence fell over the cabin, I drew a small pie from a paper bag—a treat acquired at the local inn. Splitting the pastry delicately, I shared the flaky treat with Miu.
“It’s quite delicious, isn’t it?” I mused, smiling in pure satisfaction.
“Yes—but Noa, remember what Mister always told you. You have to save room for supper,” Miu chided, the reproof in his voice mimicking that of a far older soul.
“I will,” I countered firmly. “However, it is equally as important to eat consistently while traveling to keep from falling sick. As I fear I’m already on my way to falling ill, it is in my best interest to indulge in a snack.”
