The ranger stumbled over a rock, nearly falling to his knees, but managed to catch himself just in time. His hands were tied before him, the rope stretching ahead and tied to the back of a saddle. He'd been marching all day, since shortly after leaving Crowley. His thoughts had melted under the pressure hours ago, leaving him a mindless, empty shell that simply responded to physical stimuli. Mostly, the stimuli came in the form of whips, jabs, and kicks from the group of men who'd attacked him on his way home.<br/><br/>His drooping eyelids only served to make his task of hiking in the darkness of the forest even more difficult. Several times already he'd collapsed into unconsciousness, only to be rudely awakened to find himself being dragged behind the horse. This time, when he collapsed, there was no rude awakening. He simply went limp and fell forward on his face. The rope tied to his bound wrists went taut as the horse kept walking. The men around him roared with laughter as he was dragged, face down, through the rocky desert.