With a sharp sniff and a twitch of both thumbs, Stitches pale green eyes flutter to a groggy opening. The morning blue gray sky greets him, and he unties his legs from themselves and sits up to free his back from tree bark yet again. His fingers meet the cold ground and clutch at the wet grass, and his knees bend to, in a moment, assist him in standing. Amidst the soft humming of the breeze, his steed offers him a cordial huff and snort, shaking its head at his arising. Stitches groans and reaches one hand to rub the opposite shoulder, "I'm sore, Bread." He announces to his companion.
Finally he stands and the cool air seems chillier. He can feel his nose grow redder by each bite of the wind. His legs nearly give out at first, and his stomach cries out in a distinct and upset howl, empty and tired of being so. Stitches turns to face the trees behind him, identifying for himself two trees he had been practicing on for each facet. One tree, matching a pincushion, meant for arrows. The other, closer tree has large dents, chunks and pieces missing from its wooden shell, and at its base lies the Stitches' estoc. This, he eagerly retrieves and houses well before strapping it to his other belongings, secure on his horse. His gaze wanders downhill to the town of Bree, a place he easily would once consider home. A place that now, by estranged and unfortunate events, felt like dust in his mouth, and everyone he looked at hid a dirty rotten secret.
Stitches takes a moment, kneeling down by the campfire he had lit the night before, that had well since gone out by now, sifting through the ash and pieces of burnt wood as though maybe he'll find something in it. His hidden thoughts begin to invade his active mind and cause a commotion in the meeting hall of his head, "How did this happen? Why does it feel like this? What am I missing here that feels so familiar?"
Every thought about it itches at the back of his head, like an annoying bug he can't set straight. Something about it all is wrong. Dru is his friend of course, so why does he feel urged so desperately to continue? "Why is this so important?"
In a moment of thought, his right hand creeps to his left and his fingers gently clasp around the circumference of one finger, his ring finger on his left hand, as though searching for something there. Confused by himself, he looks down at this action and furrows a curious brow. He owns no rings. Stitches' eyes check back with Bree, as his legs straighten him into a stand and his own words pass through his head, "And I'll protect you as well, miss Dru, so long as you need me to."
Yes, indeed. He had promised, hadn't he? Hastily, he casts the confusion of his emotions aside, for the moment doing his best to remain in his own shell. He focuses on his feelings for himself instead, reminding himself of his vigil, and promise to shield. The emotions were a bridge flooded; much confusion, chaos, and discomfort sits ahead on it, but he has not the time to deal with it. He's been here far too long, and lost time must be made up. He lifts himself onto his trusted horse, Bread, and turns to trot downhill through the South gate of Bree. He pushes through the bustle of the streets and straight up the main road towards the West gate, stopping only for a moment at the arch to look over his shoulder. The building's seemed closer together, busier, and the people seemed uglier somehow. Each face held itself with gnarled and gnashing teeth, evil yellow eyes and rippled skin. Demons, all of them, demons.
Stitches reaches back to his belongings adorned on his horse behind him and grabs his last straw hat, the brother of one he had given to Jorifir, the last thing that tied him to being a farmer. The last thing that tied him to being a resident of Bree, and Hengstacer Farms. It was the last thing that held him relation here, besides those he had met. As he let the straw hat fall from his hands towards the road below to be trampled and forgotten, plans of farewells to people like Dryn, Taite, Leonnie and Ulfey drifted away. His horse begins a slow and steady pace up the West road out of Bree as Stitches himself begins to fool with a map to check a first location to search.
"This is fine...people go missing in Bree all the time."
