Early Start

Moving quietly and having a gimp leg tend to be mutually exclusive activities. Stands to reason.

Doing it in the dark, with only the smallest of glows from the decorative crystals in the room to guide you whilst you hobble about? Or the wane light of the pre-dawn peeking through the curtains? Peak of idiocy. Invitation to disaster.

That is, unless you've had years upon years to practice.

I endeavored to slip through her apartment like a ghost, collecting what I'd need for my trek, dressing as I went. Trousers, linen undershirt, robes, cinch for robes, boots. Forgetting to put on warm woolen socks. Taking off sturdy boots. Putting them on again in the right order this time. Wrapping up my half-loaf of bread and the hard cheese I bought, tucking them on top of my gifts for Theryn and Mea in the rucksack. I'd probably want more food on the way, but there were always little things along the road if you knew where to look. Full waterskin went to join his friends in the bag, then I closed, buckled, and finally managed to lash it to the end of my stave. All present and accounted for. Food, road-worthy clothes, and water.

Then, of course, had to take care of the important things. Filling the kettle and placing it on the table alongside two little bags full of tealeaves. Tidying up what I'd managed to disturb. Wondering why Muse didn't return last night, and desperately trying not to let it bother me. Writing a quick note and tucking the corner just under the teakettle, just in case. Closing the door behind me as I left, careful to keep it as silent as possible. Not many people would be up at that hour. Calling Moros out of the nearby tree in the square to perch on my shoulder, setting a good pace to the city gates. Empty, quiet streets, with nary a drunk or furitive burglar in sight. Guardsman on duty was napping on his spear, so, I tried not to make too much noise on the way out. He probably needs all the rest he can get.

So it was that I struck out from Silvermoon, the city that would never admit to being caught abed, on the path home. Bright and early, but too early for it to be bright.

Of course, that was this morning.

I plod down the dusty road, watching the sun slowly make his journey to the lip of the sky. My leg, as usual, has started to burn, a slow flame licking up the scar and searing inches below my skin. Moros went off to hunt for his supper, leaving me to wander off alone. It must be at least twelve hours, maybe more, since I caught the last glimpse of Silvermoon over my shoulder. And I've still got a long, long day's walk ahead of me, and that's if I walk until nightfall. Or beyond. The way I see it, however, it's a small price to pay for arriving home early and with an extra day to enjoy the company of the friends I'd left behind. Much as I love the city and the new faces I've grown accustomed to after these few weeks, there's always going to be something about home. I'm sure it's the same for everyone, when it comes down to it. Our first memories, parents, first and fast friends; these are things that are irreplacable, no matter how far you come or where you end up going. The thought of sitting around our little witch's table, laughing and joking and sharing all my stories is a warming one, to match the glow of the sun's rays. I've missed them, Mea, Theryn, and Thornthallow all. Even withered little Teket, who won't be near as happy to see me return as I'll be to chuckle at his bent speech and duck his thrown pebbles again.

A brief shadow blocks the sun, for a moment, and I stumble in a dip in the road. The little wisp of cloud soon moves past, and so do I. For whatever reason, it reminds me of her; there one moment and gone before I can blink. What kept her from coming back? Was Jakobus' lecture that long? Did she stay, with him? Trying to banish these thoughts with the blank face of the road works, but only just. They'll poison my mood if I think on them too long.

The sun's going to be up for a few hours yet. Perhaps, if I just keep going, I'll make better on tomorrow's walk. A dark speck against the sky slowly wheels back towards the road, and I smile. My traveling companion will agree, I'm sure. He's missed his old haunts too, the fields and familiar woods where he and I hawked while Mea and I talked. Something, I'm sure, the three of us will be doing again very soon.

The hawk's screech splits the dry air as my feet hammer the packed earth of the road. Soon enough, we'll rest ourselves, and dream of home.