And All Things Will End
Your eyes snap open. You are staring upward at a pale cloudless sky. Trees that would rival the height of giants lay huddled outside the edge of your vision. The faint smell of a pine fire gently worms its way into your nostrils. You are lying on a thin bedroll that does little to differentiate itself from the ground. You are covered by a rough blanket that rustles lightly as you push it off and sit up , blinking.
Your two companions look at you, worry evident in their faces. The shorter of the two reaches toward you, her hand almost brushing against your face. Noting your confusion, she pulls it away and regains her composure.
"We...we thought you were dead. You were lying so still, and didn't seem to be breathing. I was just about to check your pulse." She explains quietly, nearly every word causing her voice to quiver. She looks away from you, and gazes into the unplumbed depths of the surrounding forest.
Your other companion, a man, clears his throat and motions toward a nearby fire whose last vestiges of flame are beginning to die. Atop the fire, skewered by a spindly piece of wood is some unidentifiable charred meat.
"I made breakfast". The man says curtly, and offers you a piece.
You accept, and in what is perhaps a defense mechanism in order to prevent you from throwing the food with all of your might and cursing it upon your worst enemy, your mind wanders.
Your two companions look at you, worry evident in their faces. The shorter of the two reaches toward you, her hand almost brushing against your face. Noting your confusion, she pulls it away and regains her composure.
"We...we thought you were dead. You were lying so still, and didn't seem to be breathing. I was just about to check your pulse." She explains quietly, nearly every word causing her voice to quiver. She looks away from you, and gazes into the unplumbed depths of the surrounding forest.
Your other companion, a man, clears his throat and motions toward a nearby fire whose last vestiges of flame are beginning to die. Atop the fire, skewered by a spindly piece of wood is some unidentifiable charred meat.
"I made breakfast". The man says curtly, and offers you a piece.
You accept, and in what is perhaps a defense mechanism in order to prevent you from throwing the food with all of your might and cursing it upon your worst enemy, your mind wanders.