Clyde shook his head, at I'trams words. "Not really. My goals are all indefinite, to contingent, and all in the far future. Just because I have not yet failed a goal, does not mean I have succeeded at it. And there is a big difference I'tram, between not failing, and actually succeeding. It is not easy to succeed at a goal such as that, that by its nature can only be failed, and not achieved." Clyde let out a sigh, not depressed by his own words, if anything driven by them. Knowing he would continue on to the next day, unabashed by such petty qualms. Taking another step closer to his goals, always on the horizon. Perhaps others would find his words depressing, or such a life, but not Clyde. As I'tram said he had brought nothing, Clyde dug into his things, and tossed him his winter blanket to sleep on. It would be better than nothing. Besides, it would not be so cold with the fire, and he had his bedroll to sleep on. "You can take the first watch. And make sure to get rid of the leftover meat far off. I am already half sure all that blood is going to lead something right to us. The last thing we need is a bunch of meat sitting out in the open, pulling in who knows what." Clyde quickly set up his tent in a few chimes, he had done it many times, and it was pretty simple. Enough to keep the rain and wetness out, and to a degree aiding in keeping ones own heat inside. He set it up near the fire, but not so close it would catch aflame. Then he set up his bedroll inside, rolling it out, and lay down upon it to sleep for a time, keeping his staff and a hammer within easy reach. The rest of his gear he left sitting outside the tent. He pulled the robes closer around him. Rye laid down outside of the tents flap door, eyes closed, perhaps asleep but perhaps not. Leaving I'tram to watch the camp, alone but for the fire and the dog lying nearby. |