He turned over and lay on his side. It took him another hour before he could drift off to sleep, Joachim long since reduced to relaxed snoring behind him as the fire continued to crackle contentedly between them. Idly, he fiddled with the cross about his neck. He really hoped this was all a dream. A part of him still would not accept this as reality, no matter how many bangs and bruises he got. That part hoped he would go to sleep and wake up in his bed or a hospital bed; honestly, anything other than the field he was now lying down in. He glanced up at the stars so far above him. He never much cared for stars back home. Most nights were too cloudy to properly appreciate them, and when it was clear, it was far too cold to stay out to look up at them. He was always preoccupied anyway, always something to do to prepare for another day at the grindstone which had come to encapsulate his life.