Soul Full of Sorrow

The mans movement hadn't woken the sleeping lady. She was dead to the world. At some point during the morning hours, she did wake to reposition herself. It didn't register at first that she was beside him. Had he tried to leave while she slept? No matter. He was on her furs, so there was nothing for it. She curled herself up against the sleeping man, her back pressed against his. She was careful not to jostle his injured shoulder. The warmth that they would make together would help him to heal.

As she curled up against him, a soft sigh brushed past her lips. It was nice to have someone nearby. Even if it was like this and even if she didn't know his name. Iolaire was a lover. It was unnatural for her to be alone. She slept very well beside the man and didn't wake til well after noon.

When Iolaire did wake, she yawned and pulled herself to a sitting position. She rubbed her face against one foreleg like a cat rubbing sleep from its eyes. She was still tired, but much less than she had been prior. Careful not to wake the man, she left the den to get a drink, snatching up a turtle shell on the way out. After drinking and washing up a bit, the small woman returned to the den, edge of the shell grasped between her teeth. She placed the natural dish nearby so that her patient might have a drink when he woke. That done, she settled upon the furs once more. She had no need to be out and about with the move coming up. If anyone needed her, they would call.