The night is still and the men lay in huddles asleep.

I was awoken by a crack in the rocks, by a man crouching close to the wall.

His face is dark and untelling.

I sense danger, his intentions are sinister.

In the wilderness, I wouldn’t have waited to end his life.

Here, I must adhere to social rules.

One does not simply strike a man down for the aura that he exudes.

So, I wait.

And the man goes back to sleep.

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So I do the same.

Breakfast is served.

Meat from the granite cavern dwellers we slayed for the cave was cooked over carrots and radishes found in a field by the entrance of the canyon entrance.

We were running low on stock, and with it, the spirits of the men had begun to turn.

Our leader started his morning speech.

It didn’t hit the same cords as before, the buff of morale was only slightly applied.

Matters would soon take a turn.

I gathered Robert and Ronald as we all began to pack up and prepare to descend back on the trial.

“Kid, you really feel the air of an uprising?” Robert asked.

“You are blind to the feelings of men, you truly are a baboon if you don’t see the signals of mutiny.”

“I’m sure you know plenty about the feelings of men, Ronald.”

“Enough," I interrupted as they were beginning to enter one of their squabbles.

“Just stay sharp and near.”

They nodded and we headed off to the rear guard.