Bonewalker

“UuuuUUaghhh.” With an arm outstretched and his muscles straining, Andros tips his head back for a mighty yawn. His hand lifts halfway up to his mouth as if to cover it, but by the time the languished limb makes it, the yawn is over and it flops back down limply. He watches the colourful, blue yellow and green stained hide canopies of the caravan trundle off into the dawn, it and the grasses around it awash in the golden glow of sunlight.