“Believe it or not, it’s not that odd a name back home.” Griff grinned and gave the guy a wink, letting him know that he was bullshitting. “It’s almost the Welsh version of ‘John Smith’.”
Maybe Griff was more paranoid than he thought, but he felt like the man was sizing him up, or maybe even checking him out. It was odd and Griff felt himself instantly straightening his back and squaring his shoulders – despite the pain – though he really wasn’t sure why.
“Really?” Griff asked. While Wales wasn’t all that big, it wasn’t like it was some place of rare pixies or something. There were Welsh people everywhere; at least that’s what Griff thought. Then again it made sense that he’d be more aware of the sound of his countrymen.
“Sitting would be bliss.” While he’d done nothing but lie around and sleep, being up and walking was already starting to take its toll. The fire was also starting to affect him. While he wasn’t to the point of being hot yet he was starting to get warm. It was an odd sensation after all the chilling blood loss, that biting personal cold being the reason for his heavy jacket.
“I honestly don’t know. I’ve hardly been awake. They left a small stack of Panadol though, which has helped.” Head tilting to the side, Griff looked up at the much taller man. “You sound like a doctor?”