Carlos felt unsettled by that, for some reason. He frowned and he drew his gaze toward the horizon where the moon was, indeed, starting to peek through the dark and dirty clouds. Just looking at it he felt sick and fatigued.
Carlos stood up from his spot by the fire. “I’m gonna turn in,” he mumbled. Though he didn’t think anyone else would care – hardly anyone knew anybody in this hastily put-together caravan of theirs. He grabbed his packs and carried it with him toward one of the buildings they had set up next to – it was a half-destroyed house, where the back end of it had collapsed into the ravine behind it.
With every step, the sickness seemed to grow and make him a little antsy, and he felt like his skin was crawling and just incredibly itchy. He hoped a good night’s rest would help him relax and feel better.
The Perfect Scientist 