Wynn approached the camp from the usual trail up from the river. Glancing around hurriedly, he hoped to catch sight of Arne. Usually after a long day of work, it was not unusual to catch him at one of the wooden tables sharing an early meal or drink with the other woodsmen. Wynn approached a table and grabbed some of the coarse bread and cheese left out before the evening meal. Despite his worry for Arne, he found himself quickly thinking about how good the bread was after a long day, and how he was now suddenly a good handful richer in silver. He would just have to figure out how to fence it in a very discrete way. Magic items were not the easiest to just sell to anyone. It was easy to rationalize that what he had done was an act of good. Making a bit of gain off of stopping someone else from doing an act of wrong, should be an act of right in the balance books. Though Wynn didn't necessarily believe that anyone was keeping track.
The main logging crew began to filter in from the trails from the various tents around camp. Most of the men looked tired after a long day of sawing trees and then trimming the branches off of them. A few of them spared glances at Wynn but most just ignored him. He was still the newest and the youngest at this camp. Being a summer worker meant that he probably was not going to be around next season so most of the other woodsmen did not really care to get to know him. Wynn smiled in relief that perhaps with his first contact with magic, he was well on his way to never having to see most of these people again. In fact, Wynn desperately hoped that this would be his last summer doing any form of manual labor.
"What are you smiling at?" a gruff voice bellowed across the table.
Looking up, Wynn realized he was smiling as dumb as a drunk with his own personal cask tucked under his coat after being kicked out of a tavern. The man across from him did not have a single ounce of charm or good looks in him. Remembering why he seldom sat for long periods of time in camp, he quickly got up and left without saying a word. It wasn't that he did not like talking. He just didn't like talking to most of the men in camp. Arne had really been the only person to make an effort to get to know him.
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A sense of unease crept back in. There was that dark feeling again. The scene with the river and the overwhelming stench of decay immediately returned, awakened from Wynn's mind. He fought to push the imagery and feelings out of him. Was that why Arne was gone? Had Arne somehow glanced at that same vision while Wynn was touching the Source? Something inside of Wynn was running away from that dreadful scene as well, he just was not sure what part of him had fled.
The sun was very low in the sky. The tables around the main cookfire were beginning to fill up. Wynn decided that the cheese and bread were going to be enough for him today. He went to the end of the table that had the dusty assignment board. He quickly noted that Arne's name was still on the board. That meant that Karla had not noticed his disappearance yet. Arne was his own man. Wynn rationalized that Arne was a grown man. If he was going to decide to disappear, then it was his business. A bit of emptiness ate at Wynn as he considered that Arne was the only one to witness his magic. Not that he was planning on sharing this discovery with anyone else at the camp.
Checking his name on the assignment board, Wynn grimaced a bit as he read "Downriver". Arne was supposed to be assigned with him. This task was similar to what he did today however, it meant a bit of travel for him. This would take him home to Oramond--That was a place he had not thought about often. In fact, he spent a bit of mental energy trying to keep the place out of his mind.
Sighing he decided to head back to his tent. The way he was feeling he decided to skip the evening meal. He toyed with the idea of reporting Arne's absence to Karla. That was not his responsibility to do though. Right?
The tent in his allotted area was open, the door flapping in the summer breeze. Wynn hurried in and investigated his belongings. They had been thrown around the small, dimly lit space. Someone had been here. Wynn suddenly found himself worrying about that trap he had destroyed. He did not doubt for a second that someone else in the work crew could have gone through his belongings. There had been times in the past weeks when a newcomer had signed on just to disappear after collecting an early bonus from the other tents. This did not help the general attitude around summer workers or any other temporary hands. Wynn didn't really have valuables in his tent. He had learned that lesson fast. He curled up on his cot and decided to deal with the mess tomorrow.