[center][b]-The Most Annoying Fellow Passanger-[/b][/center]
[center][b]-Nick Turner-[/b][/center]

 Have you ever had one of those when you've been forced to sit in a cramped mini-bus, where you're full of so much pent up energy that the very thought of having to sit still for another sevensixfivefour seconds is driving you absolutely bat crazy but there's nothing you can do because apparently running through a swamp is a bad idea? No? Well Nick Turner has. Now Nick is a nice guy, and sometimes his big goofy smile which is forever smacked onto his face can give the impression that he's an imbecile, but he most certainly is not. Nick knows how unendingly annoying it is for others to be around him in a confined space due to the very simple fact that he just won't stay still. Ever. If he's not hammering away at his knees like a drum kit, his feet are furiously tapping away at the floor. If he's not doing that he's constantly doing mini-air punches for hours on end. Have you ever tried sleeping while someone is absent-mindedly shaking your chair with their feet [i]and[/i] hands? Probably, but then that person is usually about eighteen years younger than Nick and quickly told off.

 So as you can understand everyone in the immediate area were relieved when Nick was asleep. Or at least they were at first, until they realized that he thrashed about manically in his sleep and spoke audibly through the whole thing. Luckily he could barely sleep for more than hour before waking up with a jolt. And it was towards the end of one such sleep that Nick suddenly arose from with a loud 'whoop' and a random fist pump, which came dangerously close to clattering the head of the person in front of him...again. The young man looked around sheepishly at the others, but they were really really really all past the point of listening to his apologies. Then he suddenly noticed that the convoy ahead was pulling to the side indicating that they were finally coming to a blissful halt. Nick's eyes went wider than any puppy's you've ever seen, and he was already excitedly raising from his seat before they'd even come to a full stop.

 "Alright guys, here we are. Point B-" but before the driver could even finish Nick had flung open the side door and leapt outside.

 The man didn't seem to take a blind bit of notice of the torrential downpour currently assailing them. Whereas others found rain to be a downer, Nick saw it was 'refreshing' and 'invigorating'. Snapping his head side to side to quickly take in their new temporary home, he set out to do what he'd been waiting to do all day. Run. Now Nick had been forbidden to use his ability without the express permission of Tarvos, so he couldn't quite cut loose and fly like the wind, but even just being able to take a nice simple and relaxing jog (otherwise known as a sprint to others) was a great relief. In fact it had become part of Nick's routine ever since he'd joined the convoy not too long after they'd left Maine. Which means people have had to suffer through his friendly, well-intentioned, but sometimes unbearably annoying, upbeat mood for over two weeks now.

 So as others set to work, Nick set off on his daily run, doing laps around the perimeter of the camp. Restricted to a mere athletes sprinting pace the man felt as if each lap was taking him ages, but it still felt good. The rain hitting his face felt like a refreshing wash after being in that glorified sardine can of a mini-bus. As he did his rounds Nick shouted out a friendly 'Hello', 'Hey' or 'Howdy' to anyone he came into close proximity to, adding on a name to anyone he knew a little better. And the whole time one big grin was on his face, taking in water and flies without a care in the world, such was his elation at being able to run.

 One about his thirteenth lap Nick noticed someone emerging from the swamp with a rather bedraggled looking guy slung over their shoulder. On his sixteenth lap he noticed that the person had started to gather the attention of quite a few members of their convoy. When his twenty-first lap came around he noticed that Tarvos had arrived on the scene and had his weapon close at hand. And you don't run in front of Tarvos when he's got a weapon ready. So Nick decided it would be sensible to come to a stop at that point, quickly slowing himself down and coming to a complete halt a few meters behind and to the right of the convoy leader. His clothes were drenched and his trousers practically covered in mud, but Nick was too curious to go away. Looking the person up and down he noted how cool their outfit was. Not at cool as his, of course, but still. Something told him, however, that now was probably not the best time to bring it up.