Manaan<br/><br/>Trent's mind was still a haze and he didn't quite understand what Sveta had meant when she mentioned the "...factions are beginning." as far as he knew there were already factions, just a bunch of tiny ones. All he could think of was that maybe she meant larger ones, like countries of old, which he didn't know whether it would be good or bad in the end. It didn't matter much to him, he was a drifter now, even if he wasn't being chased he didn't know if he could ever just slow down and live in one location. He liked movement, always on the go somewhere. Though the prospect of being chased sucked, he did have to admit there was rarely a dull moment in his journey.<br/><br/><br/>For the next several days he faded in and out of consciousness. He could tell each time his wounds were healing, and eventually he even knew he had been moved, the room had changed, the surface he laid upon was softer and much more comfortable. Food came for him, he ate, not ever paying much attention to what it was, he was kept in a near catatonic state to force sleep upon him until he was ready. After what felt like at least a week, maybe two he was finally better.<br/><br/><br/>Trent sat up in the bed, the sun had risen, rays of light crept in through the slats in the blinds trying hard to pierce inside. Today was different, there was no drowsiness, no bandages, and his clothes had been changed. It was a good feeling, one that gave him hope that perhaps he was done. Of course he only hoped trouble had not yet managed to follow him here, every moment he spent was another moment lost in his search for the gold, and another chance for them to catch up to him. These people had helped him, the last thing he wanted was for them to feel the brunt of their anger for helping him. As his feet hit the floor Trent tested his legs slowly, he expected there to be some weakness in his knees, and yet there was none. In fact it didn't feel at all like he had been laying in bed for so long. The black pants and shirt they had put on him were baggy, but soon he spotted his own clothes on a chair in what he now perceived to be a small hut.<br/><br/><br/>His clothes appeared to be patched up, remarkably well, as he changed into them quickly. He was most comfortable in them, as he made his way outside. At first he shielded his eyes from the brightness of the sun. His eyes were slow to adjust given the time they had spent away from the glaring light. Eventually they did though and he walked out into a garden, there he spotted the flowing red locks which stood out in this community like a ballerina on a football field. Slowly he approached her from behind, his footsteps soft not wanting to startle her.<br/><br/><br/>"I cannot thank you and your village enough. I feel much better. If it is possible I would like to thank the men who were responsible for finding me, and those who worked on me. Then I am afraid I have been here long enough, I need to collect my things from my boat and be on my way, there is a treasure to find, and danger always seems to follow in my footsteps." He managed to sit down next to her during his long winded speech. It felt good to talk though, as he now stared into her eyes, his knees pulled up into his chest.