one last breath

A warm body curled around him, and Kassander huddled instinctively into the comforting presence though he had no idea who the young man was. No idea, until the youth spoke, and the accent dredged up a faint echo in his memories. Where had he heard such an accent befo- the cold that doused him then had nothing to do with dying. He could remember her. Remember her accent, and her pretty face, and the way she'd seduced him and encouraged his shy, anxious attempts to reciprocate. But he could not remember her name, and she had left in the middle of the night some time before he had chosen to make his way to Abaven. Could... this be... He drew a sharp, pained breath, gasped it out again with faint, barely heard words. "Y-you... you are..."