He awoke to the strange ringing in his ears, and felt his legs begin to shake. The crowd was silent, and he could feel their eyes, all over. His trip was practiced for days, and hours, and yet somehow, in some way, he slipped up. A few whistled out. A few chuckled. Most "ooh'd" at his pain and the awful thump he made hitting the ground.Before he had the chance to soak it all in, he rose his trembling feet, and wanted nothing more than to try again - but his feet refused to work, and instead ran the opposite direction. Off the ring and out of view, he ditched and ignored the yells of the other troubadors behind him trying to get him to return. He'd had several blunders before, but this was clearly the worst.
He ran until he hit the edge of the swamp, feeling already the tug of a distant ache, annoying but not quite overwhelming or painful. He stared out across the dwindling trees, out into the distance, wishing more now than ever that he could return home to the desert... Burying his head in the sand was enticing. He sighed heavily, eyes wide, and collapsed on the ground.
He could feel it coming, the strange, cynical embarrassment that swallowed his thoughts. He eyed over his shoulder in case anyone had been following him, sure they were going to mock his fall.
I hope I ran far enough away, he thought.
SilverShieldwolf
