The Shaman’s Arrival

With a set list of things to gather, Tarmen nodded to Ekero’s command for wood. It gave him more time to himself, more time to think.
He often ridiculed himself now, wasting all this time still caught up on the same issues, but it didn’t give him answers or comfort. Not like it used to.
It was quick how the group dispersed once their talk was finished, the most unsurprising and yet bothersome was Voah and Gonyaul. While he had no real investment in their relationship, the silence between them was almost a literal wall. Luckily this was a more reasonable spat, Tarmen unsure if he could have survived wandering the desert while dealing with a more hostile couple.
He hadn’t tried asking Alexis of her own thoughts yet, unsure whether or not he could truly have that talk, but he saw the weight in her eyes.
They all were dealing with their own dark revelations and stress, leaving Tarmen unsure what they were truly doing. He wasn’t sure what HE was doing.
Held by his word and a gut feeling that they were on a better path in working against Ostiarium, he would carry on, but… who was Tarmen now? From Kru’ll, yes, but he was no longer walking with Zin and Vastad. All the bravado from his life, the choices he made, and why he made them now had the sense of purpose removed.
It made him grateful for the small chore he had been given. Stacking a small pile together, completing it felt more rewarding than it truly was. As with many things these days, the feeling felt foreign and childish to him, but he didn’t deny it.
It gave him the strength to move on to the supplies, noting the little shaman with Alexis as he walked towards her for a last check. He slowed his approach as he saw they were still chatting, not wanting to be drawn into conversation.