Standing On His Own

Another cold night and only one goblin to bother with. He felt lucky that the commander trusted him enough to patrol with only one fully working arm. There were a few slip-ups where he would use the arm he dislocated and his body would quickly tell him to stop. 

Henry slid off of the back of Melan and crouched next to a stream, filling his waterskin and throwing some water on his face to wake himself up. No matter how much he braced for the iciness against his skin, he still gasped at the feeling. 

At least it did the job of chasing away the fog of tiredness. 

He was in the plains leading up to the forests outside of Hydrogia and the Commander's fief. Yet, no matter how far he made it away from civilization, the castle loomed over him as if it were watching his every move.