"Yes. Sorry. Thank you. Going." Arran mumbled, still half-awake. The late mornings had spoiled him. He yanked on the boots and shook out his cloak. Then, thinking of his parents, Arran bent over and made if he were picking something up from the straw, but actually dropped coin into middle of it. Hopefully they'd find it later.<br/><br/>Then, avoiding eye-contact with the glaring farmer, he trotted out the barn and made for the road. It shouldn't be far now to Highfax.