After a while, he spoke, his voice deep and pleasant, "Alright, go to sleep."
Hannah didn’t say anything else and slowly drifted off, leaning on his leg.
...
Gregory Lawrence was very excited about stealing from the wanderers.
The most obvious sign was that he, who usually loved to sleep in, got up the earliest.
"Quick, quick, quick, let’s set off now!"
Gregory stood on a not-so-smooth rock, straining to look into the distance.
Hannah, annoyed by his noise, casually grabbed a small stone and threw it at him.
After a cry of "Ah," Gregory lost his balance and fell to the ground.
The ground was covered in soft sand; he wasn’t hurt, just ended up with a mouthful of dust.
They quickly got ready before setting off again.
Gregory climbed out of the sand pile, his hair a complete ss, and excitedly caught up with the rest, "Let’s go, let’s go, we’re off!"
He faced the rising morning sun, laughing heartily without a care.
After crossing the snowy mountains, they headed toward the desert.
Gregory said that it counted as having been through life and death together.
He draped an arm over Arnold Simmons’s shoulder, "Arnold, tell , are we brothers now?"
Arnold, holding a long sword, looked very cool.
He wasn’t wearing his black robe’s hood anymore and under the sunlight, his face was excessively pale.
Gregory asked him, "Arnold, have you never been in the sun your whole life?"
Arnold glanced at him.
He raised an eyebrow, his smile quite roguish.
Arnold told him to shut up.
Not a word more was said.
Gregory didn’t mind, still smiling shalessly.
He was the most joyful during the journey.
Occasionally, Hannah would join in his antics.
But after they crossed the snowy mountains, Hannah beca much quieter.
She would occasionally look up at the sky.
When she did, Gregory would also look up.
But there was nothing in the sky.
Actually, there was sothing; a vulture was honestly circling above their heads.
Gregory even guessed, "Is it hungry, and considering us as food?"
He seed to rember that vultures eat at.
Hannah responded to his question, "Yeah, it’ll eat you first."
"Why am I the first?" Gregory objected, "Why not eat Arnold?"
Hannah said, "Because you’re the fattest."
Gregory: "..."
...
When the sun began to set, that vulture was still circling overhead, occasionally crying out.
The sound was sharp and grating.
Gregory, covering his ears and sitting by the campfire, grumbled, "I’m going to knock that damn bird down and make it dinner soday!"
If he could fly, he would have killed that vulture by now.
Following them around all day was incredibly annoying.
Arnold looked up, observing the vulture not far away, "It doesn’t seem to be hunting."
His abrupt remark startled Gregory.
"Not hunting, then what? Surely it’s not courting," said Gregory, bursting into laughter.
Arnold gave him a look, seeming sowhat disdainful.
"Maybe it’s signaling."
"Signaling?" Gregory wasn’t done laughing, "A vulture, not a pigeon, what ssage could it be sending?"
Arnold said nothing more, only glancing at Hannah sitting across.
Traveling under the desert sun was indeed exhausting; it was a relief from the heat when the sun went down, and Hannah was resting on Arnold’s shoulder.
Her eyes were closed, as if she was asleep.
Arnold’s gaze lingered on her face montarily before moving away.
Yet even this subtle movent didn’t escape Gregory’s notice.
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