John 14:27 Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.
Nostrils flaring, Borek swore under his breath. There was a distinct tang of moisture in the breeze as it rattled the looming pines and whistled in his ear. It threatened rain.
Against all odds, Borek was two nights out from Sasau and somehow still alive. Miserable and starved, sure, but miraculously bright-eyed and jittery, keeping an impressive pace despite the blisters on his feet. He knew it was either blisters or the scratch of rope around his neck.
Borek grumbled when he felt the first raindrop on his cheek. It was too dark to make out the stormclouds, but he quickened his pace anyway as if he could outrun them, donning his straw hat and ducking his head. Maybe if he walked fast enough, the clouds would think he wasn't worth the trouble.
The pines thinned as the earth rose, roots and stones slick underfoot. The wind was colder now, pushing sideways and threatening to steal his hat. One hand clinging to the the brim and the other outstretched to grab onto branches, Borek climbed, and the raindrops came in earnest then, thick and cruel, penetrating the fibers of his tunic with ease.
That's when he saw it: a black maw yawning just beyond the ridge, swallowing all moonlight. A cave?
He scrambled over wet stone and ducked beneath the overhang, nearly slipping in the muck as he did. Inside, it seemed dry enough. Smelled like moss and old leather, but it would do.
Wishing bitterly for a torch and clutching desperately at his knife, he crouched and listened, just in case something else had found the cave first and lay in waiting.
There was only the hush of rain.
Clenching his teeth, Borek peeled off his boots and let out a low, shaky breath. His hands were trembling.
“You’re fine,” he muttered to himself. “Bright-eyed and blistered, that’s all.”
He slumped uneasily against the earthen wall and placed the straw hat over his bare feet to shelter them from the cold. He hugged his chest. "They won't be searching in the rain," he whispered.
Just keep breathing.
Against all reason, and all fear, against the cold creeping up his spine...
Borek slept.
WC: 364
John 14:27 Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.
