"Thought you could skip out on this one, did you?"

 

Victor says, looking at you from under those bushy brows. Where exactly he pulled the bowl from is a mystery, but there you stand, holding a bowl of candied peanuts.

​

When laying eyes on Victor for the first time the tendency might be to mistake him for an aimless wanderer. The dusty boots, worn clothing, sun-bleached wide-brim hat fitted firm to his head.

​

His fingers are in so many pies, near and far, that it is unlikely the blueberry stains on his thumbs will ever be removed.

​

And yet Victor is as at ease with a warm cup of dandelion tea in a shady clearing beside some unnamed creek as he is taking in a fine meal with representatives of a neighboring community, discussing complicated matters of some importance.

​

As his hand reaches out, long fingers grabbing a few candied peanuts from the bowl in your hands, his eyes meet yours, and he gives a mischievous wink.