Ford was exhausted. He'd gotten used to sleeping outdoors, and now he even had a fine tent to camp in, so long as he set it up far enough away from the group to not be spotted.
But that was tricky, as he also needed to be close enough to follow them at the beginning of the next day.
He had worried to himself that he would become visible while he slept, unable to keep himself and his things and the horse masked.
For that's what he was doing, he decided. Masking pain, masking himself, masking everything else.
Not letting himself be seen.
It was a fitting power, he begrudgingly decided in the end. He'd not shown his true personality to many in his life, bearing a gruff and surly exterior with sarcasm as a shield as many miners did.
Even amongst Mia's family that week in their home, he'd worn politeness like a veil. One that Mia often ripped through as she'd irritated him.
