I listened to him move about, pretending disinterest and feigning sleep, until he lowered the wick and settled on his furs. Restless energy hummed in the air, and I knew he was troubled. Or maybe I was confusing his emotions with my own. It was I who was troubled, and I certainly wasn’t tired anymore. I listened as his movements stilled, and I thought he was asleep when he spoke, startling me. “I know you’re awake. Your mind is loud.” I wondered if I was keeping him awake too. It was strange that I could. But he was getting better and better at hearing me, even when I didn’t intend for him to. I’m sorry. I tried to quiet it, and for a moment I thought I’d succeeded. I heard him shift, his movement fluid, and remembered that he’d been hurt. How is your wound? “Gone. You stemmed the bleeding and eased the pain. Changing healed me completely.” Silence rose between us once more, but questions tiptoed around us. I sat up, irritated and restless, and threw off my covers. I rose from my pallet and walked to the opening of the tent, needing to escape but not wanting to be alone.
