He was glad that he was let go when he was.  While the tight hug wasn’t painful, it did restrict his breath a little.  With strength like that, the only way Ilion could hope to beat him in a physical fight was through agility, but seeing Urudal moving the way he did, even with an injured leg, made that just as dim a possibility.<br/><br/>The large hand came down on his shoulder and Ilion indeed stumbled forward a bit, resisting the urge to glare up at the much larger man.<br/><br/>“Still only half your age.  Fifty-three,” he admitted.  It was hard to imagine what life would’ve been like past a hundred.  Urudal’s people were longer lived than he was destined to be, if at his age he was in his prime.  “So far, I’ve aged at about half human speed.”  So far, because there was nowhere to look for a definitive answer where he was concerned, no standard for his mixed heritage.<br/><br/>The subject of hunting came up then.  Ilion had to think back and wondered if anything he’d ever eaten had been fresh, real, or as wild as it would’ve been there.  In some parts, that was considered a delicacy.<br/><br/>“I don’t think so, no,” he answered slowly, his gaze moving to the taught muscles of Urudal’s shoulders and arms.  He’d wasted an opportunity when they were around him.  He could’ve felt them a little more…  Ilion’s head snapped forward.  “Might as well take advantage of having an expert hunter in my midst, right?  Sure, knock yourself out.”  He caught a glimpse of glistening water through the trees up ahead.  “Just so long as you can take on a new hunt without getting yourself almost killed this time,” he added, flashing a wicked grin back at the man and rushing on ahead.