Young Writers Society

He reached out and tried not to show his hesitation while shaking it.

"I'm Nendr-" he started to say out of habit, then suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be using an alias. It was clearly not "Nex" from how far he had gotten in his name, and switching mid-sentence was bound to get both Steyn and the group suspicious. "-os. Nendros Exel Xenon."

He was starting to doubt that they knew of his kingdom, anyways.

"Nendros and I are good friends. Like Engel said, we were just passing through on our way to France, but then we ran into your home and wanted to help out,” Bo reassured Engel's father. At about that point, the meager chicken was about ready, and he looked over to the fire that was going, taking the chicken over to it on a small tray. It would work. He would make it work.

He slid it in, hopeful for the chicken’s future. Not that he was going to be the one eating it. But you could do a lot with a chicken cooked with love and care and a little bit of salt.

Well, it was cooking. He lightly clapped his hands together as he watched it for a second by the fire.