After their restful states Wiflor showed to get little of it.  In fact, her body was a bit tense from head to toe at every moment.  Often seeming disturbed even in her most restful of moments Wiflor was keeping herself completely shut down as the whispers continued.  From the top of the tower to the bottom the whispers were a thing of torment, continually trying to bore into her mind.  Had there been a dangerous entity around then Wiflor couldn't of protected herself nor others.<br/><br/>Stiff, tense, and placed on the wagon Wiflor would of been no more then an extra bit of luggage, laying amongst the treasure that was earned through tooth and claw.  Regents, gold, hide, jewels, so many products to be had and so little room for the trips, but even so Wiflor was not abandoned in the moment.  That alone would of meant the world for her, if only she knew it to be the case.  What she did know was that the whispering temptations to tempt her spirit was becoming silent, and that silence became as golden as the 'bed' she laid in by all the treasure to be had of the days.  Silence until a new whispering took the place of the old.<br/><br/>The new whispering didn't feel strange, dangerous, or undesired.  It didn't feel to pull her from anything else than a protective shell.  Slowly she would awaken, but she would awaken with tired eyes as though she hadn't gotten even a minute of rest since her fight.  Her first idea was to stare forward, looking dully at the sky above but the sensation of the hand petting her head yielded her attention in short time.  Cyrus.  Glancing over she'd notice Cyrus who had kept his eyes on her.  But she wondered why.  Was his intention still the same as before?  Thinking of her past ideas of the man she figured that perhaps he held some sense of concern.<br/><br/>But then she remembered just when she passed out.  She was actually frightened of him for a moment.  Frightened of if he was capable of anything in her weakened state.  Frightened enough to make her worry again, jolting to sit up and check her own ribs only to wince.  She felt pain but she didn't feel it was broken.  Had she slept for that long?  She wondered if she had been out of it for so long a time but also realized they might of had one trick or another to help.  Hadn't Atticus done weird glowing things that helped with cuts and sores or did she just imagine it?  The memory felt so long ago that it could well of even been a dream.<br/><br/>Finally regaining some sense she'd look to Cyrus again, staring at his eyes with her own cyan gaze that neither questioned the situation nor answered questions to be had.  Instead they just watched Cyrus for a moment, one of her ears quirking as her thoughts raced onward.  Even before he could hope to gift the gift he had kept for her however she'd act...  T'was a quick action that took but a second, Wiflor leaning forward and licking from Cyrus' chin to forehead without much chance for him to react.  Immediately after would she rise, hopping out of the wagon to get to her feet, stretch, then begin walking alongside it with her eyes still seeming a bit tired.  However she got no comfort from the wagon with all the hard items in it that made it as though she were laying on the brick.  A lumpy brick.  Even with furs and hides it felt wrong and the lumpy dirt and stones gave more then the soft metals in the end.