“No. That’s got to be your decision. I’m going to be your conscience.”
“Like a cricket.”
“Not at all like a cricket. I’ll make sure you don’t die, but you’re on your own mostly.”
“Great,” she said dryly.
But the hiking went on without any hitches, except that she started to get really tired. She had never walked this long or this far in her life.
“How long have we been walking?”
“A few hours. We can stop anytime. We are going to have to hike back out in the morning, which you’re going to do with the compass. But I just want to give you a sense of what it’s like when you bite off more than you can chew, and end up where you don’t want to be.”
“It’s a little bit scary. But I do feel all right because I’m with you.”
That was true. He might only be here acting as a conscience, but he wouldn’t let her get into any actual trouble.
As exhausted as she was, it was also comforting to be out in the wilderness and feel like if something came up, she could handle it.
Falling off a washed-out trail would’ve always put her at a disadvantage, but if she’d had a pack strapped to her when she had wiggled her way out of the rock pile, she could’ve gotten her flare gun, her whistle, and she would’ve felt like she could at least do something. Having a flashlight and a blanket would’ve made a big difference.
Even without her expertise feeling entirely cemented, she knew that just having the right supplies and knowing how to use them would have put her in a better place during her accident.
It wouldn’t have prevented it, it was one of those things that would’ve been impossible to predict. But it would’ve helped her.
That gave her the strength to continue hiking. Made her feel a little bit more enthusiastic. Like she was really doing something. Really pushing and accomplishing.
She wasn’t at home knitting. Most of her nights she would spend at home knitting, because she loved that part of herself. But she wanted there to be other parts of herself.
This part of herself, this one that was adventuring like this, that was finding her bravery.
She reallyliked that part.
So she blazed a trail onward.
They stopped and picked berries, which did basically nothing to dampen her hunger, and she was so irritated at herself for not bringing a protein bar. Crackers and cheese. Stuffing a whole cinnamon roll into her fanny pack.
The foraging life wasn’t for her.
Then it started to rain. It wasn’t the torrential downpour like they had the day she had her accident, but it was a warm, quick thunderstorm, which she was beginning to see were common enough in summer, and it made her and the ground wet. The cold wasn’t actually entirely unwelcome, considering that it was an extremely hot day, and she supposed she could be thankful for the fact that it didn’t seem like she would get hypothermia.
It didn’t rain very long, just long enough to make the ground a bit slick, and to make it so that all of the surrounding trees and plants were wet enough to continue to drop moisture on them in short bursts if they accidentally brushed up against them.
“You’re doing great,” he said.
And his reassuring voice did more for her than she wanted to admit.
She wasn’t sure if it was actually getting dark, or if it just felt like it because they were deep in the trees, but what she knew was that she had definitely walked long enough.
“I’m ready to make camp,” she said.
“All right,” he said. “Do you think this is a good spot?”
She closed her eyes and listened. She was sure she could hear water. Rushing water. Either a creek, or maybe that same river that ultimately ran through both ranches.
“I think I want to get a little bit closer to the water. So that it’s easier to get some more for my canteen.”
“Great idea.”
