my back feels crunchy

Ronan hadn't even had a chance to sate his thirst when someone was approaching, muttering under his breath in his native tongue-something more crass than a man of his age should probably say- he turned and regarded the stranger with a sour look. It was a bit weird, honestly, where he came from strangers weren't in the habit of approaching one another. Least of all where it was so quiet, no witnesses about. Had this been his ruined home, he would have half expected the yearling- cause yeah, with his voice as squeaky as that his balls hadn't fully dropped yet- to be the bait. A diversion whilst someone else skulked in the shadows, ready with a shiv in maw.

He wasn't convinced this place was any different. Most folks were just trying to get by, everyone was struggling but some, some folks were born pendejos. Nothing could save them, not that he tried.

Either way, he didn't consider himself lost, but it wasn't as if he knew where he was either.

"What's it to you?"  He countered, cynicism so thick he could have whacked the yearling over the head with it.