Camp, Alone... again

[William Green]

William sat on a log by a small stream in the forest with a fishing pole in his hands. As usual he was as far from civilization as he could get. Being an outcast wasn't easy. Strewn about his small camp were his few belongings. A tent and a few cooking supplies. Flint and tinder and some rope. He didn't have much. Strapped to his waist was his sword and on his back was his bow. He had learned long ago to be cautious. Just then the end of his fishing rod jerked and he pulled a large fish from the river... dinner. Walking back over to his camp he sat down to cook it over his small fire.

[William Green]

After eating the fish William stretched and yawned. Eating a nice dinner made him tired. Grabbing a pan he walked down by the river and filled it with water. On the way back he tripped and almost spilled the water. Mumbling to himself he steadied himself and walked back pouring the water over the fire.

After the fire was nothing but coals he walked over to his tent and removed his boots. Sliding himself inside the tiny structure he removed his sword and bow setting them within an arms length. Yawning again he lay down and was asleep in seconds.