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As he was robotically making his way back to the tent, a heavily bearded man, wearing a flowing white robe and tying his turban in a very neat fashion with a striped robe. He looked Arab, though he does not carry that kind of sinister and trepidation air most of them carry, he looks like the sort which can easily make people forget his Arab heritage, he was quite calm, exuding an air of tranquility and a slight feeling of very warm friendliness. Tom could see this man approaching him with an amused face and a knowing smile that bordered on tenderness. He stopped, his eyes twitched involuntarily and his mind went into haywire, fixing and transfixing, what's happening and what should he do, run? Is he one of those men seeking for him the other day, no, yesterday, shut up head this is not the time to banter.
'Make a run for it, make a run Tom!' His mind screamed.
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