"Mhm." He acknowledged her observation with a wordless grunt. Waking up early was just second nature when he was out in the wilderness--the more time spent sleeping, the more time spent vulnerable. It only made sense to him, strange dreams notwithstanding. By the time she woke, he'd gotten one of her shoes sorted, and was nearly done with the next. His actions were efficient, detached, clinical. Failure meant one or both of them would end up hurt or dead.<br/><br/>"A path would be good," he said quietly, nodding. "And if I end up having to camp outside overnight, don't worry about that. I can handle it." He pulled everything on--armor, coat, belt, backpack--and handed her one of the cans of water to drink before they set out. He downed his in one swig, then took hers and tucked both into his pack again before he pulled on his boots and carefully opened the zipper, sticking his feet outside before he set them down. "And if we have to stay, I'd rather it only be overnight. I have a bad feeling about all of this--not up here, on the mountain, but back at Little Lake and all around. I wish I'd told your Runners where Central is." He scowled at himself and shook his head, then pushed himself up and out, standing in the brisk mountain air. He waited for her to climb out, too, then reached up to the top of the tent to pinch a pair of pressure switches and twist them. With a dull beep the tent folded itself right back up, struts and fabric and all, back down into its original canister form. Carson tucked it away, then nodded to her. "Let's get moving. I'll follow your lead."