The street, as always, is deserted. The forest, completely still. All Thomas can
hear is his own ragged breathing and heavy, uncertain footsteps.
For some reason, it's embarrassing. Dead silent except for him.
He looks at his feet as he walks. It's dark outside, and even though he knows
the way by now (it's been so many times; how could he not?), he still wishes he
could muster up the courage to buy a flashlight. Spending money for this, however,
made him feel a deep sense of guilt inside, as if he wasn't already guilty enough.
He steps carefully, slowly.
"With my luck, I'd probably step right into a bear trap," he mumbles, quiet in order to
not make any more noise than he already was.
"No bears on this side of the woods," Elias replies, somehow catching his complaint from three
meters up ahead. "Quit whining and hurry up, I don't want her freezing to death."
Thomas flinches at the sound of his voice. Right. Hurry up.
"Sorry," he says, but Elias doesn't reply. He just marches ahead. Thom follows.