Johnn coughed forcefully into his fist one more time to break the sudden tension, turning abruptly away from Maddy and marching right up to the center of the room. He pointed an aggressive finger at the senior hunter.
"Hey, Marrowin! Golden Son!" Johnn shouted, using the captain's old academy nickname to mask his burning embarrassment. "This grand plan of yours to just stick around and let the monsters hunt us is going to drag this quest out forever! At this rate, we're going to be stuck in this rusted junk pile for two or three days!"
Marrowin merely chuckled, leaning back against his claymore. "A thorough hunt takes time, Johnn."
"Time is money, and some of us are trying to keep a schedule!" Johnn huffed. He turned, looking over at the rest of the party to find another distraction, and his eyes landed directly on the young marksman sitting on a nearby crate.
