Our journey back to the Lagoon remained fuzzy in my memory, the details of how light it was or if we'd seen anyone else, if the grass had been ripe and full or if the path had other hoofprints were all ambiguous in my mind. What I did remember was that he had stayed with me through each painful step, his shoulder a bulwark against the ground that seemed both tempting and treacherous. And he was still here, to my bewilderment and relief. It was strange how part of me yearned for a moment of solitude in which I could gather my thoughts and piece together what had happened and what I had done, and yet a part of me wanted nothing more than to curl up against his massive shoulder.

His continued presence, though neither affectionate nor particularly gentle, was making it particularly hard to keep telling myself that he didn't care. That my proclamation had been born of desperation rather than of true, unacknowledged feeling. Harder still, to ignore the way my healing body craved his touch and scent in ways that made me feel dizzy and unsettled. On fire in a way that had nothing to do with the fever that had plagued me off and on since we had returned.

It was him I dreamed about through the night, half-nightmare, half-fantasy; the events immediately following the night he'd chased me from the Lagoon were prominent on both sides. And it was him I thought of first as my eyes cracked open against the late morning glare. Despite my wounds, having him nearby had allowed me to sleep more soundly than I had for the entirety of my Lagoon captivity, and I wakened now more rested than I had been in some time. I hated it, but I found myself searching for him right away, certain he would have finally left my side now that most of breaths I took were manageable. It still hurt if I was not careful, my broken rib too jagged to be pain-free, but I knew how to breathe to avoid it, mostly.

I tried not to be too needy, or too much, or ask too many questions. To lash out at him as had been my defense mechanism before; I had always been so verbose in my rebuttals of his claims, but now I felt too on edge to speak too loudly. We were in a strange holding pattern that felt like a bubble that would soon burst, and I did not want to be the one to pop it.

"Garmr?" I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper as I peered around me. I wasn't sure if he was just around a corner or if his time being patient with me had expired, and so I tried to tamp down my hope before it could stopper my throat entirely. I rose on limbs still heavy with sleep and tentatively shook myself off. I still felt like a mess with mud and bits of my bedding tangled in my slight feathers, but caring for my appearance had been fairly low down on my priority list.