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Scene 7b Gar dreams in the shadows
It was quiet in the northlands, not a lot of people, not a lot of conflict. Gar liked it like that, and was more than happy to go days at a time without seeing another living soul, but lately it had been harder on him than usual. He missed his friends and he missed his work, but it had just been too much for him to handle, there near the end, and so he'd separated himself off from the bulk of humanity, accepted voluntary exile up here where he could lose himself in nothing but work and rest.
He stood up from his rest, stretching out tense spots in his heavily muscled neck and looked around. He was in a forest clearing, just himself and a few of the local critters skipping around between the trees. Gar shouldered his mighty greatsword and slipped the remains of his lunch back in his pack. His vacation, quiet as it had been, was beginning to wear on his patience.
It had been nice, hearing from Ken earlier in the evening. He hadn't known his friend was out of treatment, let alone out and about in the world again. Gar's sword, Junior, was named after his old friend, and he'd really missed him. Of course, he missed all of the old crew he'd traveled with, but things had really changed in the world since the sixties. For decades, he hadn't even remembered that he had traveled with them, lost as he had been in the phantoms of his own memories, and later, in the press of his life as it had rushed to catch up with him.
The phantoms were clearing now, his life resolving into something that resembled what he might have chosen much sooner had he remembered who he was. He was training students again, helping younger supernaturals develop their skills so they could carry the fight to the enemy in a way their older mentors rarely had the energy for these days.
Gar stopped and took a drink from an untouched mountain spring, giving the barest glance to his almost bestial appearance. Since he had gone on vacation he'd paid even less attention to his hair and clothes, and he looked like some wild man who had just emerged from a cave for the first time in decades.
Broad and muscled, with his hair loose and wild and his beard unkempt, he looked like a horror movie killer, but that didn't slow him down at all. If he was on vacation, he was going to enjoy himself, darnit. And enjoy himself he had, on this walking tour of the northwest territories of Canada. He'd been living in a canadian city for most of two years now, since it had gotten too hard to restrain himself among the constant conflict of his home in the states.
He still planned to go back someday, but he figured things were going well enough he could move north and help out in the untouched wilds for awhile. Most of his work was easy, either logging with his great strength, or in the colder months, battling the creatures of ice and snow that tended to crop up in these wild lands.
Gar sighed with pleasure and kept up with his walk. Freedom smelled like clean mountain air and a sword that didn't pressure him to anything but sunlight and solitude. He patted Junior lightly in his shouder sheathe and smiled as he walked towards the next nexus on his map, in search of adventure...
End Scene 7b
It was quiet in the northlands, not a lot of people, not a lot of conflict. Gar liked it like that, and was more than happy to go days at a time without seeing another living soul, but lately it had been harder on him than usual. He missed his friends and he missed his work, but it had just been too much for him to handle, there near the end, and so he'd separated himself off from the bulk of humanity, accepted voluntary exile up here where he could lose himself in nothing but work and rest.
He stood up from his rest, stretching out tense spots in his heavily muscled neck and looked around. He was in a forest clearing, just himself and a few of the local critters skipping around between the trees. Gar shouldered his mighty greatsword and slipped the remains of his lunch back in his pack. His vacation, quiet as it had been, was beginning to wear on his patience.
It had been nice, hearing from Ken earlier in the evening. He hadn't known his friend was out of treatment, let alone out and about in the world again. Gar's sword, Junior, was named after his old friend, and he'd really missed him. Of course, he missed all of the old crew he'd traveled with, but things had really changed in the world since the sixties. For decades, he hadn't even remembered that he had traveled with them, lost as he had been in the phantoms of his own memories, and later, in the press of his life as it had rushed to catch up with him.
The phantoms were clearing now, his life resolving into something that resembled what he might have chosen much sooner had he remembered who he was. He was training students again, helping younger supernaturals develop their skills so they could carry the fight to the enemy in a way their older mentors rarely had the energy for these days.
Gar stopped and took a drink from an untouched mountain spring, giving the barest glance to his almost bestial appearance. Since he had gone on vacation he'd paid even less attention to his hair and clothes, and he looked like some wild man who had just emerged from a cave for the first time in decades.
Broad and muscled, with his hair loose and wild and his beard unkempt, he looked like a horror movie killer, but that didn't slow him down at all. If he was on vacation, he was going to enjoy himself, darnit. And enjoy himself he had, on this walking tour of the northwest territories of Canada. He'd been living in a canadian city for most of two years now, since it had gotten too hard to restrain himself among the constant conflict of his home in the states.
He still planned to go back someday, but he figured things were going well enough he could move north and help out in the untouched wilds for awhile. Most of his work was easy, either logging with his great strength, or in the colder months, battling the creatures of ice and snow that tended to crop up in these wild lands.
Gar sighed with pleasure and kept up with his walk. Freedom smelled like clean mountain air and a sword that didn't pressure him to anything but sunlight and solitude. He patted Junior lightly in his shouder sheathe and smiled as he walked towards the next nexus on his map, in search of adventure...
End Scene 7b