I felt egg liquid run down my chin as I stared at the man whose voice I heard, frozen. He had a thick, black beard, average height, but a build that told me he was no stranger to working outdoors. Judging from his clothes, he must've been a farmer for the land that I was standing on.
He had his right hand up, palm facing upward. His index and middle finger were held straight up, his other fingers pressing into the palm of his hand. Even from the five or so meters that were between us, I could see small gusts of wind circling his fingers.
"Listen, I would rather not put some new holes in yah, but I will if I need to. So, put back that egg, and leave." His voice was non-combative, almost comforting. I really did get the feeling that he did not want to hurt me. I almost ignored his command, from how soft his voice was. But then I noticed how he was standing.
Rigid. No shaking, no wavering. It was only by his mercy that I was still alive right now, and to test that would certainly change it. But even as I went to put back the egg, my stomach took control of my body. It would not allow me to give up perfectly good food. And so I stood there, trying to fight myself internally.
The man stared at me, his expression unreadable. I saw his arm begin to lower slightly, before his face softened a fraction of a degree. "When was the last time you've eaten something?" His voice had a sad sort of curiosity in it.
I opened my mouth to speak, and my voice came out low and scratchy. It almost felt like I was out of practice, since I hadn't really said anything for the last few days. "It's been over three days since I've had anything solid." At this, the man put his arm down completely. It fell limply to his side.
He continued staring at me. His expression had a twinge of sadness, and another emotion that I could not pin down. Finally, he let out a sigh before saying "Look, I shouldn't be doing this, but come on. Those eggs aren't going to be nearly enough." He turned around and began stomping his way towards a building that I could see in the distance. In my hunger induced state, I hadn't really taken notice of my surroundings, which included what looked like a few wheat fields, another for potatoes, and a singular pasture that held around a dozen cows. I hurried after the man, breaking into a jog to catch up to him. I kept analyzing my surroundings. It wouldn't be very long before those glorious looking wheatfields were a pile of ash. I wish I had appreciated those fields more back then.