Visiting old friends

"Always about food with you, eh? " The man shook his head. " Not yet. Won't be long though. But you're eating at the rifles, so keep yer hands to yourself!" He lifted an eyebrow. "And no stolen chickn's either."

He laughed softly, after he'd produced a rather sweet scowl, and his belly gave a rumble that had Johnny shake his head in mock surprise.

"I know t' eat with them now! Didn't mean t' take none from you." He smiled.

"Right. We'll have you empty your pockets when you leave. Just in case." Johnny said and tipped the contents of his mug down his throat. Pye looked flustered, red on the cheeks and looking at the floor.

"Wouldn' do that ye know." He spoke in a small voice.

"Now don't you get all angel 'ere." The man sat up a little. " Better you go get your butt to your troop, least you want to go hungry though. That's my advice." And then again, theirs was soon to be given out too.

"Aye, leavin'!" He smiled and stood up. More playfully than anything, he stuck his hands into his pockets and made to show that they weren't full of anything. A joke that it was, it could continue for a little longer.

"Not even a cluckin' chicken!" He grinned. With a short wave he left the camp of the 33rd, deciding to pick the less busy - yet certainly still in the parameters of the pickets - path back. Enjoy a bit of the rustle void of the sounds of soldiery up so close.