Although plenty of people had died, after joining up with the Mountain Tiger Warband, Black-and-White Bear finally stopped worrying about the quest. He lay down on the ground without a care and fell unconscious (logged out).
Black-and-White Bear did not log back in until the next day.
As his awareness returned and he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the unfamiliar, faintly yellowed canvas roof of a wagon.
A gentle, steady rocking came from beneath him, accompanied by the creak of wooden wheels rolling over a gravel road, along with the distant sounds of hoofbeats and conversation.
After a brief moment of disorientation, Black-and-White Bear realized he was lying in a moving wagon.
He tried shifting his body, and intense soreness immediately surged through his shoulders, ribs, and thighs, as though a herd of cattle had trampled him. His wounds, however, had clearly been carefully treated.
Being able to feel pain was actually a good sign. If he felt nothing at all, or a distinct numbness, that would have been bad.
Black-and-White Bear looked down and discovered that his heavy armor had already been removed. He wore only a clean linen shirt, with thick bandages wrapped underneath.
He could feel cool ointment on his wounds. Although the pain was strong, it was not unbearable agony, but mostly the ache of overworked muscles and healing wounds.
Black-and-White Bear pulled aside the coarse blanket covering him and struggled into a sitting position.
The wagon was small, with two supply crates and three packs piled at the far end.
Through the open wagon curtain, Black-and-White Bear could see rolling hills that were gradually flattening out. The sky was overcast, but the rain had stopped.
He poked his head out and saw several similar wagons moving slowly in a line along