Northern stood dumbfounded with ten sticks of roasted muscovy in his hands. Both of his hands, by the way.
Roma was doing the same, shamelessly devouring every one of them by the head.
Northern observed her for a minute as they walked down the street, then asked:
"Why are you doing that?"
Roma looked at him while chewing.
"You're not even focusing on one. The rest can wait—why don't you just finish one?"
Roma shook her head and finished chewing before she responded.
"You're still a novice, Rian. This is the street. I'd be losing if someone just runs past me and grabs one, but since I've already eaten out of it, it's not a total loss."
Northern was silent for a moment.
"I see… what a petty way of thinking."
"Say that to the thieves…"
Northern looked around.
"Speaking of thieves… some guys have been following us since we left the gambler man's stall."
Roma stopped and frowned.
"They have?"
