(continued from here)
It was a long walk back to the city. During that time, Akala was forced to appreciate more than ever the acute differences in their heights, and the lengths of their legs. Faber, for all his skinny frame, and for all that he must have tripped upwards of thirty times throughout, looked barely fazed by the journey. Akala was breathing hard by the time he made it to the city gates. Darkness was beginning to fall around them, and he was forced to be glad to have gone at such a brisk pace. He could handle himself well enough, but he didn't fancy his chances of leading Faber around after dark. It was too likely that he'd lose the boy, or vice versa.
Faber, for his part, had been quiet most of the trip. He was a difficult one to make out, and Akala wavered between writing him off as a foolish young creature and wondering if his appearance was a disguise. Each appealed to him in turn, and he couldn't help but glance sidelong at the boy from time to time.