I woke at daybreak when Cut Hand moved. He stood with his back to me at the extreme length of his chain to urinate, and like a proper sodomite I grew excited. Turning away, I restored myself to order.
We walked through the forest to where our companions were breaking fast to discover they proposed a run south to survey the river, leaving Cut Hand and me behind with the gear. Upon their return, we would decide upon a route.
Split added to Red’s growing dyspepsia by delaying their departure to give me a score of words in dialect so Cut Hand and I could communicate basic needs. I was both pleased and petrified at being left alone with him. If the chickens were coming home to roost, now would be the time.
Split and Red were no sooner gone than Cut Hand grabbed my pack, leaving the extra gea
