Surprisingly, it didn't take long to get across the lake. Or maybe it did and I didn't notcie. I didn't really know what to do next so I started towards Morgan Mountain. It seemed an easy climb so I started with optimism. It was short lived though for the climb became steep and I was tired. I stumbled to a crevice and collapsed, exhausted. I didn't wake up until the sun was at it's highest the next day. I carried on. A pattern was becoming obvious. Eat, sleep, climb, eat, climb, sleep and so on. One day I came across a small old house. I hadn't slept in days and wanted a proper, warm bed. I decided to throw myself onto the mercy of these people. Once inside the door I realised it was a pub. There were so many people! I went up to the bar and asked to speak to the manager. I was pointed to a door at the side of the room. On it was a plaque with the Name 'Ion' on it.
Inside was a man at a desk, surrounded by books. He looked at me.
"Hello sir, my name is Casey, I am tired and cold and would very much like a place to stay. Do you have a room I could sleep in for the night?" He looked at me, confused.
"Je ne sais pas ..." he said. He was French. Typical. Chace was the one who could speak French. Chace. I needed to hurry and get home. I pointed at myself "Casey" I said. He smiled. "Ion" he said, and pointed to himself. I mimed sleeping and he eventually got it and led me upstairs. He showed me to a quaint little room, mumbled something in French and left.
I collapsed into bed immediatley.
I woke early the next morning and got ready quietly. There was no one downstairs so I left quickly. I didn't want to risk people seeing me.