Lydia could barely open her eyes. The throbbing in her head wanted her to sleep more but an agitation deep inside wouldn’t let her. She knew she was supposed to be doing something important. She tried to move but couldn’t. Panic began setting in. She lunged forward and still couldn’t move much. She was tied to a tree by her legs and arms. She couldn’t see the camp, but she assumed she wasn’t far from it from the familiarity of her surroundings. Lyon walked in front of her mixing something in a small bowl while he was reading a book.
“Lyon, what are you doing,” she asked.
There was a tarp over her head keeping the rain from beating down on her. There were various objects like books and plants scattered around. Lyon had made a separate smaller camp, for privacy, that was closer to the shor
