somewhere in Canada (Travis)

[Arden Patricks]

I walk along the trail with my arms crossed tightly, keeping my eyes on the (rather uneven) ground so I don’t trip. I honestly have no real clue where I am – somewhere in Canada, yes, but that’s not very specific. I didn’t want to be specific; I wanted to be somewhere random… somewhere far away. So at least I’ve managed the second part, though it’s not entirely random – Canada is the same “utterly random” country that I mentioned whenever I told people I was leaving. So, by rights, I really shouldn’t have come here. But I guess I got it fixed in my head that this is where I should come. A premonition, maybe.

I laugh very faintly, half-snorting, under my breath. Yes, that’s right… I’m getting premonitions now. … Just shut up and enjoy yourself, will you?

I pause at these words to myself, straightening up and looking around at the towering pine trees. It is very nice here. And it’s certainly not home. I haven’t seen a soul in several hours. So this is what I was looking for, I remind myself, pausing even longer to decide if it’s true. I must have been expecting disappointment, because it comes as a surprise when I decide that yes, this really is exactly what I needed. It’s what I’ve been needing ever since Travis died, but especially recently – to just disappear from my own life, and not even know where I am for a while.

[Travis Elliot]

[/i]

A small amount of mutters formed into his mind, his eyes still locking onto the person. His head tilting to one side as he focused onto them. Lifting his hands from his knees, he laced them around each other, gently cracking the small bones in his hands. It was something to do at this point in time.[/size][/ul]

[Arden Patricks]

Secure once again in the knowledge that I'm... maybe not happy, but all right... I continue up the path, this time looking upwards and to hell with it if I trip. I'm a masochist anyway, right? So it'll probably just amuse me.

I smile very faintly at the thought, which isn't all that funny, and wipe a hand briefly across my forehead. If there's one thing I could change about this place, it would probably be the heat - I hate walking around with my sleeves pushed up, especially when it hardly makes a difference in how hot I am anyway. It makes me feel vulnerable, as if a thin layer of cloth over my forearms is somehow a magical shield against all harm.

And speaking of magical shields.... My hand goes automatically toward my pocket, where I know my wand isn't. I've gotten lax about personal security over the last few years, and will indeed occasionally venture out of site of my wand. At a time like this, when I'm just walking the trail in some sort of national park, it really didn't seem necessary to bring it along. So it's silly to be nervous all of a sudden, as if maybe I have started having premonitions and Doom is right around the corner.

I stop again to take a few breaths, until I'm back to being calm. I'm determined to be happy, or at least as close as possible, and nothing is allowed to interfere. So when I notice a few seconds later that there's a guy sitting on a bench just ahead, I make an afraid to be distantly friendly with emphasis on the 'distant' - bobbing my head vaguely without really looking at him, so it can almost pass as a nod of acknowledgment.