The Cave

The cave was dry and cool, a relief from the dry heat outside. The light just barely stretched to the rear, where it revealed a small pool of cool, clear water. Argen refilled his waterskin and washed his face of dust. He stripped off his clothes and retrieved fresh clothes from his pack. Washing quickly with harsh soap, he re-dressed; chewing sweet, salty dried beef while he laundered. This place was better than most for spending a night. How long had he been on the run? Where were Anya and Rosalyn? He hoped they were faring better than he was.