The wet dark road snaked through the forest. Rain beat down on it, and it was deserted aside from a single boy treading along it. The boy's shoulders were hunched against the cold of the rain and wind, his head was down as he stumbled through the rain. He was dressed in a grey tunic, and a worn old coat that was several sizes to big and was soaked from the rain. His trousers were dirty and torn and his boots, which were in the best condition of all is clothing, had mud clinging to them.
Will was exhausted. Everything hurt, his head pounded and it was becoming difficult to breath. His hands were numb from the cold and the restricting iron shackles that hug at his wrists.
His chest was constricted, and he felt hollow and weak from the lack of food. His wounds burned with every step, but he had to keep going. He'd been running for three days now, hiding during the day and traveling by night. He was driven only by his fear of being captured again, and receiving the punishment that was due to him.
The cold bit into him as he stumbled on through the rain and wind. making it even harder for him to walk properly.
The road he was following was muddy and wet and the only reason he had chosen it, was that it was bound to lead him to some village. He needed to get some food or he wouldn't survive much longer.
Suddenly he tripped, just barely managing to regain his balance and not fall. He stood there for a moment, uncertain if he should keep going. But he needed rest more than anything right now, he decided.
Making his way off the path, he headed for the woods on the side of the road where he might find some shelter from the rain, and be hidden from the view of anyone who should happen to pass on the road.
Finding a hollow tree farther into the woods, he slumped down and wrapped his thin coat tightly around himself.
His eyes closed in relief, and he forgot all of the painful discomforts in his sore body. His consciousness slipped away, and he succumbed to the blackness that was pulling at him.
Will woke with a start, groaning at the sunlight that shone on him. He momentarily forgot where he was, and panicked. Had they found him? He breathed a sigh of relief as he remembered the nights escapade.
Forcing his eyes open, he blinked at the sunlight and scanned his surroundings. He was in a thick forest, slightly overgrown. It was around dusk, but the sun was still relatively bright. Cursing himself for sleeping through the entire day, he tried to get up, and immediately regretted it as a sickening wave of nausea swept over him. If he had had any food in his empty stomach, he would have thrown it up.
Steadying himself, he managed to stand while leaning on the tree. He was still dizzy, but he felt much better after resting awhile. Turning toward the direction he remembered the road to be, he limped toward it, his muscles weak and sore from his long travel. Now all he needed was some food. He scanned the road to make sure that there was no one traveling on it, but it was deserted.
Breaking out of the woods, he shielded his eyes and looked down the beaten road. He caught site of something in the distance, and squinted at it, trying to make out what it was. It was a small town behind a patch of trees. He'd find some food there.
Will set off toward the village, while he walked he contemplated the shackles around his wrists. He hadn't been able to remove them after he had escaped and he didn't see how he could decided he'd have to hide them somehow when he entered the village so as to not attract unwanted attention. Of course his current appearance would earn him some attention. But he could fix that as soon as he found some water to clean up with. And speaking of water, his throat was parched. He hadn't noticed this before, but now his throat burned from the lack of water. He forced himself to think of something other than a drink, and set his gaze determinately on the horizon ahead.
Soon he arrived at a worn stone bridge over clear creek. Thanking his lucky stars, if he had any, Will walked farther along the creek until he came to a part of it that was hidden by the trees. Gratefully he slid down the bank, and drank in the cool clear water of the. The relief was instant and refreshing, and he tried to restrain himself from taking large gulps of the cold running water.
After he had drunk his fill, he washed off the dirt and dried blood on his face. The deep gash that marred his forehead looked better so and he covered it with his hair to hide it. Then he took off his worn coat and scrubbed the dirt from it, setting it to dry on the bank. Pulling off his boots he cleaned them of the dirt that clung to them, and then replaced them on his feet. He knew that clean clothes would improve his appearance greatly.
Then he gently removed his grey tunic, leaving his back bare, and exposing the ragged whip scars and dried blood covering it. He used his discarded shirt to clean his wounds, and was relieved to find that they'd healed considerably, and no longer burned quite so forcefully. After he'd finished attending to his wounds, he rinsed his tunic in the water. Will put on his wet but clean tunic and sat down on the bank, waiting for his clothes to dry.
