Garret halted when he got to the river's edge. The moans hadn't gotten any closer for the past few minutes; Garret took that as a good sign. Perhaps the person had decided not to pursue him. The river's water felt cool on his face, and helped to calm him down. He swallowed it quickly, still panting a little from his flight.
Garret got no more sleep that night. Try as he might, laying by the river's bank, he could not slumber. A spear of fear shot through him whenever he heard a moan. Most were faint, off in the distance. Garret couldn't be sure if he was hearing them for real, or if his mind was creating these figments itself. The night was oppressive, and seized in on Garret from all sides.
Garret welcomed the sunrise. He considered sleeping with the sun's arrival, but he knew he couldn't forage by night. He'd have to collect enough wood to last him the night.
The sun was hotter that day. It seemed even larger in the sky than it had previously been. The river water, lukewarm the day before, now almost burned Garret as he drank from it, in between firewood collecting trips. More grass was dying, more leaves decaying. Perhaps autumn was coming. Extremely quickly.
The night too came quickly. It found Garret sitting atop the bough of a tree, squeezed in with several large branches which could easily be broken into sections, and a multitude of berries and roots in his hand. He remained up there as the night passed, throwing a new section of tree into the fire whenever it showed signs of waning.
Zzzzz. Sleep enveloped Garret.