It was pure instinct that made us turn on our feet. My hand naturally lowered, folding in the way the mister had taught me to ask for help if needed.
Nothing had happened to make us this alarmed. And yet… it felt correct. It made sense to me… just like walking with my apartment's keys in my hand while walking at night in the streets of my neighbourhood did back in the day.
It was a controlled nervousness that was also aided by my hand that held onto my pretty tear.
Somehow, as if it was the obvious, I had adopted this stance as I walked where I held my wrist; sure that what the Spirit in the forest had told me was true... That the pretty tear would protect me if I found myself in danger.
'Why the hell is no one around? I'm sure I saw a few people before.'
I was starting to feel lost now. The tents were familiar and yet I couldn't really tell where I was at the moment.
