Otter Creek innocent iii

the prophet continues onward. he knew not if the heathens trailed him still; he had not seen signs of them in days.
this night, he had slept in a hole he dug from deep mountain snow, and he awoke with an inescapable thirst and a new stiffness to his joints.
when he looks at his reflection in the ice coating the creek, he is graying. he can see the pepperings of silver upon his chin. he is aging, he is rotting from the inside out — he did not think god would allow this!
but god is always testing. always creating diversions, and he will not be able to run forever. he must form a plan. for now, he hangs his head between his elbows, and prays in silence.