“No, I am not calling you a liar,” Shaun said again, this time with a huff.
“Yes. Yes you are,” Fred replied matter of factly.
The two were standing out in the forest, not fifty yards from where they had set up camp. A poor trickle of water ran from beneath the underbrush, past their feet, and back out of sight all in the span of twenty five feet. Fred clutched a rather large fish to his chest and looked even more confused and hurt than the fish that was bound for a skewer over the campfire.