[Barracks; Open to All; Multiple threads welcome]Shall the Youngest Open the Oldest Hills
It hadn't taken Will long to realize that his promise not to leave the Barracks rather severely limited his ability to distract himself from his own worries. Over the past few days he had explored everywhere in the small enclosure he could reach. He had spent a few days attempting to read through what there was in the library, but after a while he had found the lack of endings to be rather frustrating.
At home, there would have been school and chores and good-natured arguments with his brothers. And even on Aunt Jen's farm, there had been small farm chores he could help with, even if he was still too weak to do much with the sheep. But here... There were no assignments and no tasks. And Will had no idea what to do with himself.
Today he had resorted to wandering about the barracks for a few hours, watching the other people here and wondering about the places they had come from. Growing tired at last, Will found a quiet spot by an empty building and sat down.
And he watches the people walk through the area, making tracks in the snow. He thinks over everything that has happened and worries over the things he cannot remember and the strange urgency that he cannot forget. All the time, Will lightly traces one finger over a strange shiny hairless scar on his forearm.
A perfect circle, quartered by a cross.
At home, there would have been school and chores and good-natured arguments with his brothers. And even on Aunt Jen's farm, there had been small farm chores he could help with, even if he was still too weak to do much with the sheep. But here... There were no assignments and no tasks. And Will had no idea what to do with himself.
Today he had resorted to wandering about the barracks for a few hours, watching the other people here and wondering about the places they had come from. Growing tired at last, Will found a quiet spot by an empty building and sat down.
And he watches the people walk through the area, making tracks in the snow. He thinks over everything that has happened and worries over the things he cannot remember and the strange urgency that he cannot forget. All the time, Will lightly traces one finger over a strange shiny hairless scar on his forearm.
A perfect circle, quartered by a cross.