I awoke again, I'm not sure how much time has passed since I slept. The light coming through the slats seems different, weaker now. I make my way to my feet, carefully working my way to the windows.
Examining the boards on one of the windows, I reach out and attempt to move one. It is firmly attached to the frame, and I can't even wiggle it. Frustrated I check the other boards on the window, only to find them equally attached. I make my way to the next window, only to find those boards won't budge either. I see a small crack in the slats, and try to look out of it, but see nothing but tree and stone. Sighing,I move to the next window, then the next. Whoever had boarded these meant them to stay boarded.
The last window was no different, though one of the boards had a small knothole in it. I stuck my finger into it, wondering how long it would take me to whittle the board. If I only had my wood tools, but he had taken my bag. Still, my mind started working on the problem. I leaned down, trying to look through the knothole, It barely went through to the other side, and I could swear I saw ... was that a ... a gravestone? I shuddered, once again wondering where I was.
Thirsty, I went to the barrel and took a drink of water, before I turned and made my way back to the bedroll. Sitting down, I hugged my legs to my chest and rested my chin on my knees while I thought. I'd never felt so alone.
