[Open] 6.40am March, 1982 [Undetermined]
Just keep moving.
Every footstep that hit the path felt like some small accomplishment, each rasping breath and slam of his heart in his ears. Keep moving. It was all he could do with every element of his life disintegrating around him — a failed political campaign and the question mark that hung over his career, the Order again pushed back against the ropes as the question of whether they would get their friends back alive and if they’d have anything to come back to and the niggling, corrosive question of what had happened with Amelia on the day of the inauguration. He had no answers for any of it, no plans, no path forward into the murky future. Edgar wasn’t sure he’d ever been this tired, let alone this lost.
There’d been a time when running would make life clearer, lately however all he got was static.
His chin jerked up from where it had begun to dip, eyes caught on something hunched over in the path ahead. Something moving. He slowed to a halt, heart pounding in his ears and struggling for breath as he carefully approached the figure in the road. “Hey—” he hunched over, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath, rubbing the sweat from his forehead against his shoulder before trying again, “Hey. Are you okay? Do you need something?”