It scared her even more, how long he sat by the wall and stared off into nothing. He didn't even move when she crept out of the cave and began digging through the wet leaves for dry pieces of tinder. The horse still had his saddlebags, which meant she still had flint. If they weren't going to look for Erean until morning, they might as well be warm instead of wet, cold, and miserable.

The crow followed her from overhead. The sounds of its fluttering carried through the treetops, and the edges of its mind pushed against hers until it slipped into her conscience and faded until she scarcely noticed anymore. She wasn't sure if it was more unsettling or a comfort, to not be out here in the dark alone.

"At least someone can call for help should you run into trouble."

She didn't know how much help Rannok would be, really. Not with her still-injured foot keeping her from running. She had to stand on just the tips of her toes to keep her lacerated heel from hitting the ground with every stride. She would probably get eaten before he even heard a call to help her.

The pale light of a full moon scarcely made it easier to gather the less-damp sticks and leaves from underneath where they'd been covered, but eventually she managed to get enough for a small fire. At least it would be enough to dry their clothes, and for her to treat her foot.

Rannok whipped his head around when she came back into the cave, eyes dilated in the low light. She dropped her pile of dry leaves and small branches with the leaves still attached in front of her. Hopefully it would light. He poked it with his finger, then fished a flint out of his pocket she didn't even realize he'd been carrying.

"They might be too wet," he said as he got to lighting it, like he was afraid to hope for a fire.

Sasha sighed and slumped down onto the ground, then tore her boot off her foot. She peeled back the wet sock with a wince, then tossed it aside. The branches flickered to life. Rannok let out a relieved sigh and began feeding it one of the larger branches. It consumed it hungrily, like an animal that hadn't been fed in days. 

She examined the wound on her foot. The edges were raw and red and puffy. No pus leaked from them, but they'd split apart where she'd been walking in wet shoes. She grimaced.

"The water didn't do me any favors," she said. She stood on one foot and hobbled over to the horse. He snuffled in the far corner of the cave, his back pressed tight against the rocks. She supposed she didn't blame him for being frightened. 

"Hold still," she soothed at the creature. She hopped on one foot while holding onto the saddle's cantle. She retrieved a tin of salve from the pockets of one of the saddlebags, then hopped back to the tiny, glowing fire. Rannok's wings caught on the edges of his shirt as he peeled it off, then laid it across one of the rocks to dry. The orange glow caught the blue in his eyes. They were blank, and he still looked frightened.

"Are you okay?" 

He ran a hand through his hair and breathed heavily out his nose, so his chest rose and fell in quick succession, like he was having trouble catching his breath.

"I don't know. That's never happened before."

Sasha didn't know what to say or do to make it less awkward. She'd never seen someone so consumed by fear, or so utterly convinced that they were about to die. It made her not want to know about the things he'd seen.

"Why are you so afraid of horses?"

She asked the question as gingerly as she could, but the silence swallowed them as whole as the darkness had. He looked at her for just a second, then returned his eyes to the fire, like she wasn't even there. He wrung his hands together.

"Have you heard of reavers before?"

"No," she answered.

"They're like horses, except they're not friendly, and they eat people."

"Oh."

 "Yeah."

More silence, the uncomfortable sort that settled on her skin and made it hard to think. Sasha could still feel the crow's presence watching from the shadows, but she got the impression he was leaving them alone. Or at least leaving her alone.

"And the thunder," she asked. She didn't know if she even wanted to know the answer. His shoulders shrank inward, until his wings almost covered his face. She could see it, his hands were shaking hard. 

"I'm not ready to think about it," he said. She didn't want to think about the fact that it stormed a lot here, or what that meant for their trip.

"My mother didn't tell me much about Terres," she replied, in an effort to change the subject. She'd always acted like she was scared of it, like the very word would bring ghosts she didn't want visiting. Sasha couldn't blame her, if it was bad enough to keep her with her father.

"Not all of it is bad. Just the desert and the people and the cities." He snorted in a way that might have been a laugh. Sasha let herself smile back just enough for it to tug at the corners of her lips. The horse whickered from the back of the cavern. His face tensed just slightly.

"I'm sorry I teased you," she said. 

He shrugged his shoulders, just once. "You didn't know. It's not your fault."

She couldn't help but think he was far, far too forgiving. She never would have let it go so easily, if he knew and teased her about her mother, or what the inn was like while she was there. Of course, he didn't know, so he couldn't tease. 

"I'm still sorry."

Rannok shrugged again, then held his hands out at the fire. They were work-worn and scarred and covered in calluses. She wished he would say something else, but knew better than to push. The thought of making him angry put her on edge for a reason she couldn't place.

The sky made a sudden, loud rumble. Sasha's stomach constricted into a pit. She'd hoped these storms wouldn't continue all night.

Rannok's hands snapped back toward his body. Sasha flinched hard and scooted further away from him. His pupils constricted to pinpricks and he turned and stared at her, eyes wide with fright. A cold breeze whipped into the cave. Sasha watched, horrified, as it wrapped around their fire and smothered it, like a baby beneath a pillow. 

"Please, no," he breathed. 

"It's fine, we're fine. We're going to be okay." She tried to sound like she believed herself as she took his arm and led him through the dark to the back of the cave, nearer to the horse, where the winds would catch on the outcroppings before they reached them.

A bright flash illuminated the inside of the cavern. The horse watched them, unperturbed, from fifty yards off. Sasha prayed the thunder would not make him wild. Rannok sat, leaned into a corner between the rock and the wall. She settled next to him just far enough away that they weren't actually touching.

"I'm going to be okay," he echoed, though he sounded even less like he believed it. The crashing rolled through the cavern like a crazed beast, making both of them flinch.

"It is going to be a long night," the crow said.