Franz sat on a stool at the Bobbing Cork, waiting patiently.Â
The thought of using this small, short, moment of opportunity to simply leave the inn and say nothing about it had occurred. But what would come of it? Jancis would simply keep looking. Write another letter. And he would find himself going to make sure everything was alright.Â
There would be no running. Not in an area of the forest he was unfamiliar with. Not when even just sitting on the stool was uncomfortable at best. There was a dulling pain from the boots that push against his legs. From the gloves stretched to fit his hands. From his belt. Standing, it was as if each step was barefoot on the hard ground.Â
He could handle these simple pains. Surely, he would either become used to them to where they no longer hurt, or they would simply go away with time. Closing his eyes, he rubbed a sore area of his forehead, but that only seemed to make it worse.
How would he handle this situation?
The thought of using this small, short, moment of opportunity to simply leave the inn and say nothing about it had occurred. But what would come of it? Jancis would simply keep looking. Write another letter. And he would find himself going to make sure everything was alright.Â
There would be no running. Not in an area of the forest he was unfamiliar with. Not when even just sitting on the stool was uncomfortable at best. There was a dulling pain from the boots that push against his legs. From the gloves stretched to fit his hands. From his belt. Standing, it was as if each step was barefoot on the hard ground.Â
He could handle these simple pains. Surely, he would either become used to them to where they no longer hurt, or they would simply go away with time. Closing his eyes, he rubbed a sore area of his forehead, but that only seemed to make it worse.
How would he handle this situation?
