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.
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