Laughing leaves skitter across the hard, stoney ground turn to birds and take to the air.
My heart skips and I wait, watching them, but their fingers are frozen with age and crust. They move slowly, moaningly, waving churlishly at the sky.
They are guardians, and like any good guardian a killer as well. Black and craggy against a grey, miserable sky they loom above me, their limbs tangled confusingly, impossible to follow, but trace them I must. I must look for a break, a fracture, a branch hanging on by only memory that may give way as I pass, dropping hundreds of pounds of water logged wood on me, crushing me they bug they think I am.
Miraculously, we maintained power and the trees stayed where they were despite the horrible rain and wind.
The tent that I bought in 1989 and set up to see if it was still any good, withstood the hailstorm of weather for the last two days with only a few drips, nothing a little Camp Dry can't fix. That with kagetsunami's back pack, I am almost ready to go camping with the boy scouts next month.
Pell work today focused on combos. Thrust, wristleader, flatsnap to leg rolling into a mulinaize, all in the blink of an eye. Lovely. I'm awesome against a dummy. I could take on a whole army of them. But what about a real fight with a real human? We shall find out when I take the emt_hawk challenge, the mayhem at Mudthaw.
He has a secret weapon, but I have a surprise. Who will win? You'll just have to come a see.