Are
Train, wash, bathe. A good plan for a good day, a good little hike and a good little bout with imaginary foes. Good."Good!" he thought and said to himself, giving all he had to that little nugget of warmth in his head. A ball of sunshine straining against a mountain of darkness and worry. Questions coming in like rising tides, all without answers 'til the time came that it was too late to be of any use. Was he ready? No one could know until the time came again. Maybe it wouldn't be long.
The cobbler was at least partially right for once, a voice muffled by trees and shrubbery, but clearly in distress. A moment he froze, a split second of the warrior shrugging off every question but those pertinent to the moment. A good hike turned into a good run, turned into a good sprint. Leather clad, shield and axe in hand the warrior came powering through the brush, ready to face whatever threatened the owner of the voice. A second cry, loose words without meaning could be heard, but enough to get the warrior thinking.
Was he that dumb? Charging into the unknown. Ready to put his life on the line was one thing, but doing it without any rhyme or reason was exactly the kind of thing he'd catch a good scalding for. So he stopped, stashed his pack in the event he actually had to fight, better to be light on one's feet then to have an extra blanket for when an errant step puts one to sleep.
"Who goes there?" his stern voice broke the short silence left after the distressed voice had gone quiet. Without waiting for an answer he pushed through into the clearing, shield first and axe raised in case of an ambush.
The cobbler was at least partially right for once, a voice muffled by trees and shrubbery, but clearly in distress. A moment he froze, a split second of the warrior shrugging off every question but those pertinent to the moment. A good hike turned into a good run, turned into a good sprint. Leather clad, shield and axe in hand the warrior came powering through the brush, ready to face whatever threatened the owner of the voice. A second cry, loose words without meaning could be heard, but enough to get the warrior thinking.
Was he that dumb? Charging into the unknown. Ready to put his life on the line was one thing, but doing it without any rhyme or reason was exactly the kind of thing he'd catch a good scalding for. So he stopped, stashed his pack in the event he actually had to fight, better to be light on one's feet then to have an extra blanket for when an errant step puts one to sleep.
"Who goes there?" his stern voice broke the short silence left after the distressed voice had gone quiet. Without waiting for an answer he pushed through into the clearing, shield first and axe raised in case of an ambush.
