The two days following their crucial meeting had passed much faster than Arthur would have hoped for, time seeming to slip through his fingers like sand despite his desperate wish to slow it down. Each hour that ticked by brought them closer to their departure, and with it, the looming shadow of Fort Stan grew ever larger in his mind. Now, as the pale morning light filtered through the thin curtains of his temporary quarters, he found himself staring at the ceiling, officially awake on the day they were scheduled to leave.
Although "waking up" was perhaps a loose term to describe his current state, seeing as he hadn't really been able to fall asleep to begin with. The concept of restful sleep had become increasingly foreign to him over the past forty-eight hours, his mind too active and anxious to allow his body the peace it desperately needed.
