Day 2 - Recovering

[Corporal Light]

One hour later

The grasslands were back to their normal selves. The black clouds surrounding the skies had cleared away, and travel had resumed. The roads were still muddy, but they were no longer the giant puddles of filth that Ballad fought through on his way to Minas Tirith. Despite this, however, the air held a swampy odor, only further increasing the humidity around the plains. If that wasn't enough, the sky itself had gotten darker as the afternoon passed by. Ballad couldn't really tell what time it was, though his best assumption was close to six o'clock. You've gotta be fucking kidding me...

Ballad continued walking through the slimy road, his boots finding themselves repainted by the brown cack that made up the road. There was a constant sucking noise each time his feet planted itself on the ground, which only elicited an annoyed grimace along Ballad's cheek lines. His hands were deep inside his green coat pockets, and he was looking down towards the earth below him, deep in thought. And by deep in thought, he was really talking to himself, with every thought in his brain shooting out of his mouth.

"Can't believe that asshole made me waste three hours of my time to tell me he wanted me in the goddamn military. Who did he think I was? Some random jackass on the street who hated the 'Empire?' I swear, next time I see him and he talks to me with that goddamn grin on his face, I'll punch his fucking teeth out." Ballad grumbled, a bitter tone ringing through his voice, "And now what? I'm walking through the middle of nowhere, it's almost dark out, and I'm probably a wanted man to some faction I didn't even know existed up until RIGHT NOW. Forget this 'Omnillium'. I'd rather be home over this bullshit."

Ballad let out a loud sigh, his eyes gaining a soft texture to them. "Stupid, stupid Ballad... went and became a criminal to some dictatorship, and just flipped off the only people who would want to help him. Look what he's done... and in a place where there are verses everywhere, whatever the hell they are... that he can't die in..." was all he could say, his tone growing depressed. He stops moving, shutting his mouth. It's a relatively natural thing to feel at least some sense of homesickness, but Ballad never felt that. He had been away from his own home in Frozen Over for well over two years since.... well, he had left it a long time ago.

Alright... enough of this. I need some sleep. Clear my mind of things.. Ballad took a look around his surroundings, seeing there weren't any nearby forests or anything that could be used to keep the sun from beating down on him. Shaking his head, he mutters "Guess I gotta do this the much longer way.."

Stepping off of the road and into the grass to his left, he lifts up his left hand, trying to envision what he wanted to form out in front of him. It wasn't exactly much, so it shouldn't take quite that long. Though it did bring some... unpleasant memories. These reasons alone were going to make this take some time...

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About fifteen minutes later, Ballad had sat down within a shack, literally four walls and a roof. The walls and roof were composed of greyish metal that had a fair amount of rust on it. It honestly sucked. It wasn't very big, and there was very little room. But in such short notice, Ballad couldn't have really created anything else. Or at least anything better.

Shifting on his rump, Ballad let out a disapproving grunt, his clothes getting covered in muck thanks to him sitting on the slightly wet ground. Oh, well. He might as well make the best of it.

Ballad raised his right hand out of his pocket, seeing the bandage still wrapped around it, with red blood staining it from the inside. The pain from his wounds had gone away a few hours ago, though that didn't mean they still required healing. Suppose I'll deal with these wounds now, before anything else happens. Closing his eyes, he holds out his left hand, spending another hour or so to treat his wounds.

By now, it was almost pitch black outside the shack. Thanks to no lighting, it was almost impossible to see anywhere past the palm of your hands when you held them up to your face. It was uncomfortably quiet, with only the crickets and their incessant chirping breaking the ice. Ballad moved his hands to his side, sighing once more. Might as well just go to sleep... I'll figure out what to do tomorrow.. being a wanted man is good for something, at least... now I have options..

Resting his head against the cold metal sheets acting as the walls, he slowly closed his eyes, beginning his slumber.