R
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Traversing a corridor or a busy street immersed in something else was a recipe for disaster.
The object of immersion is often considered to be physical, but it need not necessarily be, strictly speaking.
So, considered objectively, this was Ren's own fault.
Had he not been daydreaming, he might not have tripped and dropped all his books.
He sighed. He needed both a map and a bigger pouch. Looking over his notebooks, scattered across the dusty sand, as if they were shards of broken dreams, he got to working picking them up, mindful that a stray gust would only blow them further out of reach.
It was tough to believe that somewhere this hot could be so close to a tundra. It had made the trip difficult to prepare for, but he'd managed to trump frustration with enthusiasm.
Unfortunately, that same enthusiasm had left him lost in his own world, wondering about what he might find there, and so a stumble had caused him to drop all his books down into the valley.
That wasn't a problem, strictly speaking. He was going down there anyway. He would have just liked to do it in a more respectable fashion than overturning the contents of his satchel into the hole.
One by one, Ren picked up the notebooks and slipped them back into his satchel just as his fears were realised.
A light breeze suddenly picked up, and three of his books suddenly took to the air, leaving the small boy to run after them as quickly as he could through the sand.
"No, no, no, no! Stop!"
His cries were totally ignored by the wind, and the books continued to fly, occasionally rising or falling in the breeze.
Today was not turning out how he'd hoped.
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