sometimes I'm sure it gets to all of us

He's shifting back north, now. It would be time to collect his mother and his younger siblings soon, time to escort them back home. Back to the Bamboo. Back to the warmth of the Auster summer, and away from the chilly Boreas winters. It seemed that Tate was doing a lot of walking lately, and that... that was okay, actually. A lot of walking, a lot of exploring. Taking a lot of time to himself. Is that what it's like to be an adult? Was this... it? It felt like he was doing a pretty good job of it, actually. Maybe he really was okay at this. On his travels he could listen for rumors, he could learn new things. He could meet interesting people. It's a good life, and things were actually going okay for him.

Another evening, another place to camp. Drawing into the Mangrove around dusk, Tate feels pretty good about settling here for the evening. The sun was starting to slip towards the horizon, and the first stars were beginning to flicker to life in the sky. He'd been able to catch a few fish, and retreat a bit into cover to start himself a fire. Digging a little pit and striking his flint on some dry tinder, it came to life relatively quickly. Hot damn, this was the life.

Settling the fish on the fire and lighting himself some herbs to smoke, Tate settled with his back against a tree. Well protected from the elements, close to the warmth of the fire, and comfortable as he could be... this was nice. It would be a good night, out on the road. They had mostly been good nights lately. Tate was feeling quite well and peaceful, thanks very much.