Elspeth

I snort at his apologetic words about the time of the year, though I hardly keep my response there. “I damn well know that it’s winter but honestly, I didn’t realize we were going to the fucking north pole!” I had lived through winters before - but nothing like this one. And it had only just begun!

I’m caught off guard by his next words and his movements as he shifted to make room for me in the spot he had been lying in. The fury in me dies as quickly as it had flared up, finding no kindling in this gesture. I do nothing but blink at him for a moment, my golden eyes watching him steadily. I know I’m trying to find some way to turn down this offer, to find a flaw or a trap in it, but I’ve got nothing. It worked, him telling me a little bit about his home - I find some comfort in the reminder that I’m not the only one who has found themselves here, although I’m annoyed at how lucky he was about the lack of adjustment.

“Alright.” The word came quietly, a contrast to the fury I had blazed with moments ago. I may be stubborn but I also wasn’t suicidal or willing to go crawl back into the cave I had been sleeping in and nestle next to the cold rocks. I move slowly, both from the cold and out of caution - it felt like every single nerve on my body was on edge. At the slightest movement from him I would flinch but gradually, carefully, I lower myself to the ground beside him. I’m intensely aware of the lack of space between us as I curl my legs up underneath me and settle down - as though there was electricity in the slight gap, dancing between our skins. It keeps me from relaxing completely - my muscles are tense and I'm afraid that I'll need to leap up at a moment's notice. But then I start to feel the difference in temperature - whether that was because of the break in the wind or my own imagination I couldn’t say.

I hope he was right, about just needing time to adjust, although I was confused about whether I wanted to take that time. To avoid thinking about it I quickly ask another question - my voice still quiet, the trembling already less than it had been. “Was it far from here, your home?” As I ask, I turn my head so I’m looking at him - forgetting for the moment that I had interrupted sleep and the polite thing to do would be to let him rest and extending a cautious invitation to tell me more.

give me the sun that shone