Calan pulled his cloak tight around himself, the night had grown cold, it seemed he couldn't get close enough to the small fire. Although calling this small flame a fire was more than generous in fact it was little more than embers so as not to attract any unwanted attention. Normally on nights like this Calan would think of the day he awoke, the day Gareth came to his aid by the river ; but not tonight, tonight his thoughts were elsewhere dwelling on people he scarcely knew. Why he wondered what set fort Shaundaular apart from any other? Did it matter? For the first time since he could remember he found himself not wanting to travel onward to where ever but instead he wished to go back. would it be so bad if he never found out who he was? Calan closed his eyes and recounted the faces they had left behind, and drifted off into sleep.