The other player's name is Blair, as it turned out, and they were running from the spade-masked man due to damaging some of the Game Master's property with a sort of electrical device that Edison would have been proud of.
I shared my jerky with the kid and I shared my story as well. I still cannot tell if they are a boy or girl, but I don't think it matters much and I am not inclined to ask, for it would seem to be intruding.
After I told them my story of how I got here, Blair told me that they were a "Runner" from what they called the "Black Dog." At this point, I must have looked enraptured in their story, since Blair stopped chewing and asked, "Have you heard of it before?" Their voice had a nice drawl to it.
"I've heard tell of a few tales," I said. "Even wrote one myself from a tale I heard. 'Stanley Fleming's Hallucination.' And I've heard why it comes after people." I let that sink into the silence. "Not that I care what secrets you keep. I have secrets of my own."
I could tell it was a subject not to be touched upon, but I had done so anyway and Blair looked at me with a sullen sadness. "We should travel together," I said changing the subject. "It will make things easier when we need rest. One of us can sleep, while the other stays alert and watches for any trouble."
Blair finished eating the jerky and asked, "How'd you know I won't just wait 'til your sleepin' and slit your throat?"
I laughed. "If that's the cause, then I deserve it. I consider myself a good judge of character and you seem like a person who only cuts a man's throat when they have no other choice. Am I right in that assumption?"
Blair shuffled their feet nervously. "Might be," they said.
"Good," I said. "Because I am actually a horrible judge of character and I would hate to die in my sleep."
That made them smile.
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