Martin plodded on, slowly, but persistently. He had brought extra materials for trading, in case their coinage dwindled or good-will ran dry - a small clay container, several drinking bladders, and carved figurines among various other trinkets. Garyth had warned that the extra burden would overweigh him but Martin stubbornly wrapped the belongings and stowed them in his pack.

Alone now, he realized that Garyth was probably less worried about Martin's pace, and more concerned about attracting undesirable attention. He had yet to encounter the bands of thieves, greedy lawmen, and swindling townsfolk that he'd heard tales of.

Martin resolved to shed the goods at the soonest practical moment, even at a steep discount.

He sat for a moment on a rock alongside the trail to rest his back and shoulders.  From within his pockets he produced a block of dried meat and sliced small portions.  As he chewed through the tough flavorful chip, he reflected that the journey was already quite different than he'd expected.  Outside of the town, the pace of life was more self-directed than he'd anticipated.  The traveling clan had to create their own routine for meals, rest, and sleep to balance the monotonous progressions across the near un-changing landscape.  Just as the birds and squirrels and other creatures constantly busied themselves with the straightforward business of gathering provisions, Martin focused primarily on maintaining a steady, comfortable, but productive gait down the road.

Martin hoisted the pack on his shoulders and continued down the trail towards his traveling companions.