I followed him grudgingly through the brush. He'd untied me earlier this morning and I had thought my limbs would fall off they felt so numb. He gave me a little bowl of mashed tubers and told me to 'carb up.' I assumed he meant to eat, and the tubers tasted dry and starchy in my mouth, only barely cooked. And then he had me running around picking up camp so that we could leave. He had developed a brisk impatience to him, as though he could not abide the thought of staying in one spot another moment. I had to admit I felt terrified, wondering where he would take me, trying to stay out of his way while he stormed around dissembling our camp. By the time all trace of our presence had been obliterated, I'd already worked up a sweat.
“Let's go,” Neviar said and shouldering his pack, started off in a direction with no other explanation. He didn't even bother to look behind him to see if I followed. Simply tromped through a thicket and down into a ravine.