Rannok could not shake the sinking pit of dread that settled in his stomach. It clung to him as they traveled across the plains and down into another valley. It pulled on his wings as they brought the horses around and followed a winding stream toward the west. They rode on in silence, stopping only occasionally so the horses could rest and they could drink.

His head spun when Sasha brought up stopping at the next town, which turned out to be a half a day's ride away, far sooner than he'd liked. The sun had gotten high and hot in the sky when they finally pulled their horses to a stop, dismounted, and brought them to the local inn. They'd managed to get rooms using nothing but hand gestures and vague grunts, because whatever language the innkeeper spoke, it certainly wasn't Terrean or Ascaran.

They'd eaten in silence before retiring. Rannok stared at the cracks in the ceiling as the oil lamp flickered in the corner. It threatened to storm again. The electricity in the air danced. The window let a sticky draft into the room, which wasn't enough to wick the sweat from his skin. The sun had gone down hours ago, and he long since should have been sleeping, but his eyes stayed open, glued to the light as it played across the plaster. 

Rannok still didn't know where to go. He could travel back to Horizon, board a ship with the small amount of remaining money Sasha's father had put in the saddlebag, and sail home, but he doubted he'd be able to pass unfettered. He couldn't stay here, either. 

The sudden sound of rain interrupted his breathing. Rannok sat up and grabbed the window, shuddering as a cold breeze slammed it shut. He still didn't like the weather here. He'd settled back down when someone knocked at the door, then opened it without waiting for a response. It shut again with a soft metallic click.

"Couldn't sleep, either?" he said. Sasha shook her head. Rannok ran his hands over his face and folded his arms behind his head. At the very least it was not thundering. 

"It's not just the storm, is it?" Sasha asked. The oil lamp reflected the worry in her eyes. She sat on the edge of the bed and wouldn't look at him. Rannok felt the tension radiate off her and wondered whether he should say anything at all.

"No," he admitted. He ran a hand through his hair. There was nothing to say. He couldn't go home. He couldn't stay here. He couldn't ask her to stay, either. He'd been enough trouble already. 

"Can I tell you a secret?" she asked quietly. Rannok eyed her out of his peripheral vision. Her hair hung in front of her face as her head hung. Her arms were folded in front of her stomach, like she might vomit. 

"You've already told me a lot," he said.

"I don't like being alone at night," she said. "It scares me. He used to--" She paused, then opened her mouth to say more, but no words came out. 

"--You don't have to talk about it," he interrupted for her, because he understood not wanting to talk about horrible things. Her shoulders released their tension and she relaxed just slightly.

"Thank you," she said. "Do you mind if I stay here?"

Rannok thought about it a moment. "No," he said. He hadn't gotten the chance yet to move to the floor when she settled in beside him.

"Where are you going to go, once you leave?" he asked. That sinking feeling returned to his stomach. He didn't want to hear the answer and he wasn't sure why he'd asked. She was quiet for an uncomfortably long time.

"I wasn't planning on leaving unless you were," she said. The ball of dread in his stomach dissipated. The animal sitting on his chest got off and suddenly he could breathe again. He let out a sigh that was just a little too loud. He did not resist when she reached for his hand. The sky split and light flashed in the room for a brief moment. He tensed, waiting for the rumble of thunder that never came.

"How long have you been waiting to ask that?"

"I wasn't," Rannok said quickly, but he didn't know whether or not it was a lie. The crow was gone. Erean was gone. He'd taken it as a given that soon she'd leave too, and he'd be alone. He'd have to start over again. He didn't know if he could bear it a third time.

"I'm not planning on leaving," she repeated, which only served to further relieve the pressure on his chest. She moved a bit closer to him. She smelled like horses and the damp before a storm started. He could barely see her eyes in the dark and hear the sound of her breathing. He put his arm around her without thinking about it and sighed as she nestled into his chest. He hadn't realized how fragile she was, or how small. 

"I'm sorry I hit you with a sword," she said, though he'd nearly forgotten about it. There was plenty he was sorry about too. He was sorry for yelling at her for not reading the map, and for making fun of her when Driver ran. And for snapping at her.

He folded his wings up closer to his back. The rain hammered the window outside. He concentrated on the sound of his own breathing. Horizon was horrible, and thunderstorms still bothered him. Strange horses still terrified him, and he still longed to see his family again. He doubted he'd ever stop wanting to see his family again. 

He wondered if she still thought about home, or woke when she slept from nightmares. He was sure he didn't know the worst of what she had been though, just like she didn't know the worst of his. She probably never would. They were both fucked up people, her far more than him. He wasn't alone, and that meant he could survive. He could survive if she could.

Rannok closed his eyes and tried to sleep. In the morning, they'd figure out where to go, but for now, he was okay. He was going to be okay.