"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James stared at her with a small glare for a moment, before saying, "Touché." And getting up and gathering his things. He dug around his bag for a moment, and pulled out a journal, and upon flipping it open, flipping to several loose, aged papers stuck in there, and pulled out one that was folded into fourths.
"Let me just figure out where we are real quick." He mumbled, shutting the journal and opening up the paper to reveal a hand-drawn map of the area. He digs around in his bag again and pulls out a compass, comparing it to the map and looking around. They were by a creek... that gave him enough for something as a point of reference. He racked his brain trying to figure out where they could be and where they started, before finally deducing that they had to head... northeast.
"Next time why don't you mention you have a map before we almost get lost."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James looked up at her, his brows furrowed and his tone defensive and corrective. "I knew where we were going until we ran around in the darkness last night. I remembered how I got into that forest and I remembered how to get out." He explains, though not going into detail about his visual memory. "It's only now that we're all turned around that I need it." He mumbles, before folding the map back up and stashing it back in his bag, but keeping the compass in hand.
"We'll be going northeast, following this creek for a while."
She just nods in answer, taking Nightmare's reins and leading her down the creek.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James leads the way on foot, occasionally glancing at his compass to keep track of which direction they're headed. In an effort to keep the peace he remains silent.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James hummed in thought, looking up at the trees. "From where we were? A few miles out. From where we're going? Still have at least a day ahead of us."
"So only a few days max, then, to get to the village."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
Good. Now the better question is, how the hell do I get home after this? She lapses into silence to ponder the unanswerable inquiry, lost in thought.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James kept moving forward, running on the fuel of three fish and a few hours of sleep. On occasion he looked back at Tasha and her horse, and her dog, just to do a headcount. The day seemed to be passing uneventfully, much to James's relief. He just hoped to get to the city sooner than later.
Last edited by soundofmind on Mon Aug 14, 2017 12:25 am, edited 1 time in total.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
