Ralof sat in the corner near the door, one boot braced against the wall, a small block of wood in his hands. A knife moved steadily, shaving thin curls that fell soundlessly to the floor. He didn’t look up at her right away. He must have heard her stir, but he didn’t rush to speak until she was fully awake.
“There’s food,” he said at last, voice low. “If you feel like it.”
Talisse nodded once, though she wasn’t sure if he saw it. Her throat felt tight, dry. She swung her legs over the side of the roll and winced, pressing her lips together as a flare of soreness shot up from her feet. She got up, and crossed the room slowly and tore off a piece of bread and left the rest on the table. It was dense and a little stale already, but better than nothing. She ate a few bites standing up, then moved to the hearth and sank down onto the floor nearby.
Someone had left a folded length of felt by the fire. Talisse pulled it around her shoulders, cocooning herself in its rough warmth. The wool scratched faintly against her skin. She held the bread loosely in one hand, forgotten after a few more bites.
Feeding the hearth another log, then a second, she settled them carefully atop the embers. They caught slowly, orange light blooming as the fire breathed back to life.
She remained there, staring into it, eyes unfocused. The embers shifted and glowed, collapsing in on themselves. Now and then a log settled with a soft pop, sparks lifting briefly before vanishing. Her reflection wavered in the firelight—broken, indistinct, never quite whole.
Her body still remembered, even if her mind tried not to. She adjusted the felt tighter without thinking, fingers curling into the fabric.
Ralof’s knife kept moving. Scrape. Turn. Scrape.
He didn’t fill the silence. Didn’t ask how she was feeling, didn’t offer reassurance or platitudes. He simply stayed where he was, a solid presence in the room, as immovable as the beams in the ceiling. They sat in like that for a long while, the kind that slowly folded in on itself. Talisse drifted inward, her thoughts turning dull and heavy, looping without direction. The fire became background noise, its warmth pressing against her shins while her mind wandered somewhere far less gentle.
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