Luke wiped a hand across his brow as he rode his horse deep into the desert. It was days like these when he needed solitude, craved the silence.
But, no, his thoughts were always with him.
Traitor, they whispered. You ran. You were afraid. You were disloyal.
No, no, he told himself. He didn't run. He didn't betray them to their enemies. He left. He left for his family - to keep them safe - and, usually, seeing the smiling faces of his wife and boys was enough to make him grateful for it.
But not on days like these. On days like these, he was simply haunted.