"Would you like me to show you where…?”  Ichabod trailed off as he realized that he was talking to the demon’s back.  Apparently Ruin could find the creek by himself.  Or, at least, he thought he could.  Ichabod worried about his companion getting hopelessly lost in the woods, but what could he do?  It was rapidly becoming apparent that, aside from issuing a direct command, he had absolutely no hope of influencing Ruin’s actions.  Ichabod’s lips curled into a small smile.  For the first time, he knew how his father must have felt.  Shrugging to himself, Ichabod gnawed on his stick of jerky.  He hoped it would keep his belly full until lunch.  Ichabod was no stranger to hunger, but sharing the discomfort of a rumbling stomach might make Ruin cranky.<br/><br/>As it turned out, Ichabod didn’t need to worry.  After a little while, Ruin emerged from the trees, wearing new clothes and carrying a dead fawn.  The beginning of a laugh jumped from Ichabod’s throat when he got a good look at the demon’s ill-fitting outfit.  However, not wanting to injure Ruin’s considerable pride, Ichabod hastily transformed the laughter into a coughing fit.<br/><br/>Ruin’s declaration earned a pair of raised eyebrows from Ichabod.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to know how the demon “found” a set of human clothes and a fawn with an arrow wound in its side.  But he’d commanded Ruin to refrain from harming anyone unless they presented a direct threat, so he had to assume that no blood had been shed.  Or the person whose blood had been shed deserved it.  “Well,” Ichabod began cheerfully.  “I’m glad one of us has good luck.”<br/><br/>Despite all the time he spent traveling, Ichabod never quite mastered hunting.  Fortunately, his early life as a farmer had taught him how to process a dead animal.  Taking the knife from his boot, he quickly gutted the fawn and skinned it.  A little foraging around the campsite provided him with branches suitable for making a spit.  Soon, Ichabod sat beside the fire, slowly turning the deer as it roasted.  He also crushed the spearmint leaves in his hand, before adding them to the hot water.  Sipping it banished any coldness lingering inside him.<br/><br/>“Warm drink?” Ichabod inquired, offering the cooking pot to Ruin.  It occurred to him, much to his amusement, that his “slave” was now giving him orders.  But at least Ruin had abandoned the sarcastic “Master” crap.<br/><br/>Ruin’s question about their destination was a good one.  After pondering it for a moment, Ichabod answered.  “I think we should stay off the road for awhile, in case anyone is looking for us.  If we cut south through the woods, we’ll reach Merdoc after two days travel.  That’s a decently large city.  Large enough for us to lose ourselves in it, and large enough that people won’t be so freaked out by seeing a demon.  There’s even a good place to spend the night on the way.”  Ichabod began sketching a map in the dirt -- then he remembered that Ruin couldn’t see anything he was drawing.  Embarrassed, Ichabod hastily erased his work and continued his explanation verbally.  “Some ruined old temple.  There are rumors about the place being haunted, so most people avoid it.”<br/><br/>Soon the fawn had been cooked to perfection.  After cutting it down from the spit, Ichabod presented the roasted corpse to Ruin.  “You<span style="font-style: italic">found</span>it, so you should eat your fill first.  I’ll have whatever is left.”