Flashes Of The Past III

Jonas grabbed the bow he had just hung along with his knife, stuffing them both into a small leather pouch.

With a muffled poof, the weapons disappeared into the gluttonous belly of the pouch along with some miscellaneous items that were mostly useless. Jonas’s eyes roamed the confines of his room, searching for any other items that could prove useful to his survival. Unfortunately, in the eyes of an amateur and inexperienced individual in wild-life like himself, he overlooked many things and ended up a few items short.

While he was immersed in his gathering of utilities, a familiar feminine voice called out to him. “Jonas, supper!”

Jonas winced at his mother’s tone. It was not gentle and inviting, rather impatient. And a bit angry too.