Whitewater Gorge Floating

As the silence stretches on, he struggles not to slide back into melancholy-- an unfortunate and detestable habit that he had intended to remove from himself completely. It was proving to be a much harder endeavor than he had assumed. 

He reminds himself of the teachings about pride and despair, while the conversation slides in and out of view like an endangered animal. 

Even so, his thoughts return to his family, and the absence of them, chasing itself like a dog fixated on his own tail. He fears that grieving had already become muscle memory to him. I must pray, he thinks. But for what?

Finley's voice-- flat but incredulous, brings him back. Derg was in a playbow. If he had thought the facial scar and the friendly demeanor had been at odds, this almost put him into the realm of the absurd. Of satire. Colin can't help but smile. "Tag," he muses. "Derg, you're it."