Dal the bully?

Das returned home after the meeting in the tribal hall.

"Dal," he called out as soon as he stepped inside.

"Dal."

"Yes, Father," Dal responded, suddenly poking his head out of the kitchen with a pot in his hand.

Dal was the kid who had bullied Aru in the past, but Aru didn't hold a grudge and saved him when demons attacked their camp during the winter hunt.

"What are you doing?" Das asked, even though it was obvious from the pot in Dal's hand.

"Ah!" Dal exclaimed, realising something, and quickly hid the pot behind his back.

"Nothing," he replied hastily.

"Don't try to hide the pot behind your pot belly," Das sighed, looking a bit disappointed by his son's antics.

"It's not even noon and you're eating again?" He asked.

"No."

"Wipe your face before answering," Das sighed again.

His son's intelligence seemed to be inversely proportional to his belly fat. The more fat he had, the stupider he was becoming.