"Yes, but there was once only one."
He sat down by the campfire, stirring the kindling a bit. "There was a war. A terrible war, as wars tend to be." His eyes lost focus as he stared off into the distance. "I should know. I was there."
The man opposite Buford furrowed his brow. "How can that be? That was was over a hundred and fifty years ago!"
Buford blinked, realizing he'd revealed too much. Unfortunate for this man, who now knew too much. Nevertheless, Buford decided to speak freely, and let this man have a few more minutes of life before doing what he must now do.
"I'm over five hundred years old." Buford said, calmly. "I was born in 1507, not long after the fall of Constantinople."
The stranger chuckled, taking a swig of his canteen. "You had me for a moment there."
Buford's face did not change. Perhaps it would be better to let this man think he'd only been joking. That way, he could be allowed to live...
"He who takes offense when no offense is intended is a fool, and he who takes offense when offense is intended is a greater fool."
"Don't take refuge in the false security of consensus."