DAZED AND CONFUSED

CHAPTER ONE--part one

(1) He had been walking for days on end, time only one of the many concepts his dazed mind could not comprehend. The muddy trail before him seems to only drag out further with every struggling step. Not a single building had he stumbled past to help his dry throat. Crooked trees tower over him, their sharp line mimicking the walls of the cell he had escaped from. The sound of rain became the thing that drains out his own struggled breathing and the howling wind that ran wildly through the trees. The sky remains gray, dark storm clouds placed on the once blue background like a cotton blanket.

Dried mud and dirt clung to his neck and face like his skin was a lifeline it could loose if it loosens it's small crooked fingers only a little. His hat keeping his face from the feezing rain. His skin, despite the rain, felt dry as a bone sitting in a scorching desert. His tired legs scream at his to stop for only a moment. However he ignors their please and drags them forward, knowing all to well that if he stops they would catch up to his drained form. The mud trail before him carries him forward, the trees whispering about promised better times ahead. His hot breath hovers for only a second in his face. It's warm presence causing his face to freeze once it was gone.

Freezing rain fell from the skies above like bullets. His dull clothing sticking to him as if their entire existence depends on him. His old and worn leather boots stumble over rocks, some of which made their way to his feet. The blood that was once dried to him washes away.

His home weeks away, his once clear mind being herded away from his only hope. Rain was rare there, mud and cold days nowhere in sight, the very thought of them was nonexistent. His once sun kissed skin now pale and covered in colorful bruises. His lungs burn in his chest despite the cold. The man's once calm state was now replaced with frustration and confusion.

Everything around him swarms in dull blobs, this only dragging him further away from steadiness. The pistol attached to his hip deemed useless. It's existence only seeming to weigh him down along with the leather bag on his back.
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: his hand instinctively travels to the water container, the leather strap slung over his shoulder. The man's tired and shaking hands slowly twisted off the metal cap. Bringing the container to his lips he found it only had a small drop of freezing water remaining. The droplet hit his chapped lips, calming the burning slightly. (1)

: he allows his eyes to travel, looking for anything other than trees, rain and mud. He needs to know where he is. He needs to find a way to escape. (2)

: he walks slowly, nausea pulling at him to stop. His breathing was slow and his heart sped up with every laboring step. Glazed over eyes stare at the ground, the small amount of hope left not leaving them. (3)

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(2) He halts, calm footsteps filled his ears. The sound of rain suddenly vanishes.
A small incoherent conversation replaces it and he quickly understands he needs to hide. His once struggling heart now jumping back to life in an attempt to make him rush to the safety of the forest that surrounds him. Cold leaves supporting freezing water soon meets his skin, briers tug at his flesh and clothing. Their slightly muffled conversation growing closer and coherent. He quickly kneels behind an old oak that towers over his starved form. The barrel of his pistol hovering only inches under the stubble on his chin.

Their small conversation soon meets his ears. His gaze locks on the large amount of saplings in front of him, however his focus was on the figures behind him.