Heat blanketed the brown-grassed plains to the north of Symon. Summer’s heat was peaking early this year, and the man resting in the relative cool of a tree’s shade was feeling the effects of it. Jan Raedel reclined against a thick oak trunk, staring lazily over the long flat plains. He couldn’t recall exactly how long he’d been lying there, the sun had put him in a lethargic state long ago, but he was content to remain there until he needed to move.
His bow was leaning against his right shoulder where it had come to rest after falling from its place propped against the tree. He tried to remember it bumping against his shoulder, but couldn’t seem to manage. Jan relished these days when he could sit alone and relax for hours on end. There was nothing pressing for him to attend to for days yet. As long as he managed to bring something back home with him, it did not matter what he did while he was gone.
