Fish
"Never had fish before?" Joshua Graham asks.
"No fish left in the Mojave," the prisoner says, watching through the bars. Every inch on his jailor's skin is wrapped in bandages and he always stinks of antiseptic. Only his eyes remain visible and as he throws another fish's guts into a bucket, they burn a smidge less.
"I was a hunter and a preacher before I was a warrior and Caesar's Legate," Graham says. "Every kid in New Canaan learns to skin their fish before they're ten. To live off God's bounty, and respect it.
"Do you want to learn, son?"