It's unsettling how easy it is to slip back into a life on the run. Years getting used to being in a big city, surrounded by people, interacting with them every day, and in the blink of an eye he's again hitchhiking from place to place, hopping on boats or climbing mountains just so he can cross borders, finding whatever menial jobs he can to get by and manage to keep on going.
At least he lacks the time to think about everything that's happened. Or maybe he has too much of it, when he spends most of his time on his own, and even in the company of others he's more turned inwardly, lost in his own thoughts. He's not sure if it's better or worse, but then Bruce has always been the kind of overthink things, so one way or the other, he'll live.
Just like he'll live having to walk through these dense woods in the middle of the night just to get to the next country over. Everything is quiet and still, and while he takes a quick break, there's the distinct sound of wood snapping under pressure, loud enough that he's almost sure isn't made by an animal.
He straightens up, turns to where the sound came from. For a moment he considers actually walking the other way, but ends up making his way towards it, quiet and careful as he gets closer, peeking from behind each tree in hopes of getting a glimpse of whoever made that sound.
Terrible idea, he starts to tell himself. Another part of him tries to reason by wondering what's the worst thing that can happen, but then— the worst thing that can happen would be pretty catastrophic, so... yeah.
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At least he lacks the time to think about everything that's happened. Or maybe he has too much of it, when he spends most of his time on his own, and even in the company of others he's more turned inwardly, lost in his own thoughts. He's not sure if it's better or worse, but then Bruce has always been the kind of overthink things, so one way or the other, he'll live.
Just like he'll live having to walk through these dense woods in the middle of the night just to get to the next country over. Everything is quiet and still, and while he takes a quick break, there's the distinct sound of wood snapping under pressure, loud enough that he's almost sure isn't made by an animal.
He straightens up, turns to where the sound came from. For a moment he considers actually walking the other way, but ends up making his way towards it, quiet and careful as he gets closer, peeking from behind each tree in hopes of getting a glimpse of whoever made that sound.
Terrible idea, he starts to tell himself. Another part of him tries to reason by wondering what's the worst thing that can happen, but then— the worst thing that can happen would be pretty catastrophic, so... yeah.