Breathing.  His own breathing.  Motto’s sharp ears picked up on the hint of sound and he nearly choked.  It was a tremendous relief to detect the noise and to sense it returning in full.  Without realizing it, the young hunter had been shaking during the terrifying ordeal.  Now that he was more aware of his surroundings with the horses footfalls and the delicate echo they created against the ancient walls, he could have hope.  The wheels of his wagon sqeaking and turning, the jar of beans jangling just behind him.. each sound was comforting and then he remembered.<br/><br/>He’d been chewing.  Only now it was just…grit in his mouth.   Wet and pasty grit.  No more earthy tastes and the flavor of chocolate was gone as well.  Relaxing in his seat, Motto chewed happily.  The blanket of black was tolerable now that he could hear the other wagons and a hundred tiny nuisances belonging to each one.  Reaching back, the hunter grabbed another handful of the forgotten yuck and tilted his back while letting it fall into his open mouth.  It was dry, but nothing a little drink couldn’t fix.<br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="https://78.media.tumblr.com/8de6064cc8536dbc451d3e6ba1d55277/tumblr_inline_p5avrh9TIF1trff3p_540.jpg">[ img ]</a><br/><br/><span style="color: #008000">"Hey Teresa!"</span>He called to the wagon before his,<span style="color: #008000">“Is it …black where you are?”</span>For a brief moment Motto wondered if he had gone blind or something.  Maybe he’d never see again.  A blind man at the age of twenty four.  He would be a burden unless he got the hang of things without aid.  Still chewing, he closed his eyes and held the reigns with a lighter touch.  He concentrated on the tension of the straps and lurching of the wagon on what might be soil..<span style="font-style: italic">‘I can maybe survive just fine on my own as a blind man.’</span>He thought.