A Traveler's Burden

Silence

Norman napped for a few hours, but eventually awoke when a particularly loud bird began to chirp just outside the stone tent. Even after sleeping, he awoke pretty groggy. He considered sleeping again, but figured he shouldn't stay unaccounted for much longer, or it would be harder to explain.

The older man stood up with a grunt, stretching as he did. He looked at his arm for a brief moment, considering his options, what few there were. Eventually, he decided on one and headed back home.

The walk back to the camp was short and rather uneventful. He went a little further than he had before, since he took a longer route towards camp. He went half way around the camp, so that he'd come back in a different entrance, closer to his tent . He eventually walked out to the clearing and quickly made his way into his tent. Holden was situated in another lawn chair, Jacobi's, now eating some sort of stew. He didn't notice his father hurry into the green tent. No one else was out.

Norman snuck into his tent and quickly made his way to one of his packs. He pulled out a roll of gauze and quickly began to roll his arm. He finished and put the gauze back in his pack before hesitantly sitting down on his mat. His arm was stinging lightly from the gauze touching his raw skin, but he eventually grew used to it.

He threw his leg up onto the mat and laid down. At this point, he didn't care about how dirty he was. In a few days, it wouldn't matter.

He lay there, silent, staring at the roof of his tent. It was quiet, somewhat rare for the clearing. Typically someone was talking, or it was raining, or a bird was chirping, or cicadas or anything at all. Not now though. Nothing. Not even the wind. Nothing but Norman and his thoughts.

But he didn't want to be alone with his thoughts. He usually did. See, Norman was not the most social man. He typically preferred to be by himself, really. Not now though. His thoughts were full of worry and dread. All he could think about was what would soon happen. At this point, he was on borrowed time.

That's when he realized it. He had to do whatever he was going to do, right then. He had no time to waste, but what would he do? What was there to be done? When rushed on time, it suddenly becomes harder to remember everything you must squeeze in.

First, he would have to eat. He was starving.