The child nestled against his chest had likely been awake for far too long, left alone in the dark of the barn as the three idiots rode into the monster's teeth, not to mention in whatever way she'd gotten to the Infirmary. Unless... Unless the fox had gone back into the dark, fetched her, and then returned?
Somehow, Rory doubted that, and it would not account for the way she slept like the dead. Unless she always did that. She was, after all, a baby, and babies—of any kind—slept a lot.
He felt heavy, and sluggish. Each beat of his heart was accentuated by a deep throb of pain, an ache wrapped around his upper body, a lethargy in his muscles like that of finally resting after too many nights of lost sleep. He raised his hand to wipe at his eyes, and then stifled a yawn.
His fox friend had, indeed, woken up, and watched him with those curious blue eyes that had seemed so out of place in a human face.
Perhaps the fact that Rory had not done much damage to anyone was what kept his guilt at bay: he had thought dark and horrible things, but the most he had achieved was slapping Edrei's arm or something, which she probably hadn't even noticed. He had not thought much of why the girl had attacked him, or why the fox had bitten him, had just assumed it was because the same need for murder had whispered in their veins. The same distrust, building to a hot fury, one that would not be denied.
What else could explain their on and off attempts at tearing each other apart?
Yet the way the fox looked at him was .. a little bit disconcerting. Rory's jumbled memories left no room for the knowledge of just how close to his limits he had been pushed, and the worried gaze peering up into his face had him feeling a little uncomfortable, as if the fox was worried he'd just fall over and die or something.
The white canine extended his head, then withdrew it again, and Rory's eyebrows grew creased. It wasn't like he was going to fall apart if he was nosed... "What are you looking at me like that for?" he asked, grumpiness masking the anxiety snaking through his belly—had Amalia not made it? Was that why he was looking like that, about to deliver bad news? His frown deepened into a preemptive scowl and he reached out to boop the fox's nose, for lack of a better thing to do, hoping it'd get him out of that worried staring mood.
Somehow, Rory doubted that, and it would not account for the way she slept like the dead. Unless she always did that. She was, after all, a baby, and babies—of any kind—slept a lot.
He felt heavy, and sluggish. Each beat of his heart was accentuated by a deep throb of pain, an ache wrapped around his upper body, a lethargy in his muscles like that of finally resting after too many nights of lost sleep. He raised his hand to wipe at his eyes, and then stifled a yawn.
His fox friend had, indeed, woken up, and watched him with those curious blue eyes that had seemed so out of place in a human face.
Perhaps the fact that Rory had not done much damage to anyone was what kept his guilt at bay: he had thought dark and horrible things, but the most he had achieved was slapping Edrei's arm or something, which she probably hadn't even noticed. He had not thought much of why the girl had attacked him, or why the fox had bitten him, had just assumed it was because the same need for murder had whispered in their veins. The same distrust, building to a hot fury, one that would not be denied.
What else could explain their on and off attempts at tearing each other apart?
Yet the way the fox looked at him was .. a little bit disconcerting. Rory's jumbled memories left no room for the knowledge of just how close to his limits he had been pushed, and the worried gaze peering up into his face had him feeling a little uncomfortable, as if the fox was worried he'd just fall over and die or something.
The white canine extended his head, then withdrew it again, and Rory's eyebrows grew creased. It wasn't like he was going to fall apart if he was nosed... "What are you looking at me like that for?" he asked, grumpiness masking the anxiety snaking through his belly—had Amalia not made it? Was that why he was looking like that, about to deliver bad news? His frown deepened into a preemptive scowl and he reached out to boop the fox's nose, for lack of a better thing to do, hoping it'd get him out of that worried staring mood.
