Grayson hit the ground with a soft thump. Panting heavily as beads of sweat trickled down his thin blanched face. He let his head roll back, his eyes closed as his hands clutched his abdomen and moaned slightly. Nausea had been drifting in and out as they had made their way here. Having nothing in his stomach but liquids, he had managed to choke down the bitterness. But now, resting, with his heart beat fluttering frantically, it didn’t come in like the small waves on a tide, it came like one massive tidal wave.

Tristan’s words barley registered with him as he attempted to fight with his weakening body. He was demanding more from it, and it was trying to simply give up. Small morsels of food were pressed into his hands, catching his attention and forcing him back to reality. He adjusted his position slightly so he was sitting more upright and began to unravel the thin muslin wrapped edibles with shaky hands. Before he took the first bite of the salted meat, it half way to his mouth, he hesitated and looked over at Tristan, barley able to make eye contact and a weak smile, “Thank you, for everything.” He wouldn’t of known that he had put Tristan in danger, with royal guards hot on his heels, but he knew something hadn’t been right. And he had come to the conclusion that Tristan had risked a lot just to get him to safety, he just didn’t know the extent of it.

When he took the first bite the flavor of the salted meat exploded in his mouth, he groaned long and low. His stomach purred happily as he swallowed. He opened and exposed the contents of the other wrapped package, taking the bits of dried fruits and popped them into his mouth. He salivated as each new flavor hit his taste buds. He felt like it wouldn’t have mattered what he ate it would have all tasted amazing. He folded up the now empty muslin and passed it back to Tristan exchanging it for the canteen he had offered. Grayson took a long deep swig from it before passing it back as he smacked his lips. Wiping the corner of his mouth he confided in his friend, “it doesn’t matter what I eat. As long as it’s food, I'm sure I’ll like it just fine.”

Everything he ate settled heavily in his stomach, even though the meal was small, he felt very full. A smile briefly dashed across his face with satisfaction before it turned to a scowl, wondering just how long it had been since he last ate. Or at least remembered it. During this time he stayed in his head, his eyes lazy as he briefly drifted in and out of consciousness. He missed the arrival of Cel and the exchange between him and Tristan. Grayson was still weak enough that couldn’t really focus on too much at once. And at that moment he was trying to piece his memories and his story together to lay it out for Tristan. But he couldn’t knit it together when there was nothing but darkness. He hoped and maybe prayed that with time those memories might come back to him. But his hopefulness was overshadowed by a bristling fear. What if those memories were terrifying? What if having to face whatever had happened to him might break him? He knew whatever it was wasn’t good, not with the shape he was in. And maybe, just maybe, it was better off that he couldn’t remember.

Era had missed the whole thing as well, as soon as they had arrived she collapsed in a small bundle of blue and drifted to sleep. He looked over at her just as Cel had arrived back with food. Grayson gently shook Era, who woke up slowly, blinking away the drowsiness as she accepted what Cel had found for her.

With both of their bellies full, Grayson became fully aware of the silence that had slipped around him. His eyes wandered to each member in the party. Celidon’s questionable face which he attempted to tactfully avoid but probably failed, Era who was yawning but decided to curl herself up against him, her chin resting in his lap as he nervously rubbed her dark ears. Lastly, at Tristan who was avoiding him, or perhaps they were avoiding each other. Grayson shifted uncomfortable he noted the thickness of that silence, it was almost suffocating. They both had a lot of questions, but Grayson knew he wasn’t going to be able to answer anything, and that just didn’t seem fair. His eyes dropped to the ground as he plucked at some blades of grasses awkwardly. Tristan’s earlier words haunting him, it’s a fucked up version of Shaman you’ve come back to, mate.

He sighed, as if it was the only thing he could have done. He had made a decision, for better or for worse. He decided to stand (metaphorically and physically), and as he wobbled shakily to his feet, he chuckled “I’ll be excited when I don’t feel like some old man.” He eventually found the stability he needed, and turned to look at Tristan, for the first time since he’d awoken he felt the spark of adventure that once encompassed him. He was with his friend again, it didn’t matter what happened. Whatever was going to happen was going to do so with or without his approval and he wasn't going to fight or dwell on it anymore. “So….” he mused looking out towards the forest, “I suppose we’d best be on our way to this camp of yours while I still have strength.” This time his fully crooked tawny boy smile spread across his lips. Grayson had lived through a lot when he was younger, and that never stopped him, why would this?

Grayson