Atrius groaned as he woke. A lot of the pain he felt was dull and achy. Her touches also eased his ribs and ankle apparently as they didn't hurt much at all. The skin around his wounds was taut and inflexible, like it was healed. He rolled his limbs. His shirt was ruined, most of him was covered in dirt and blood. He looked at Alina, she was hauntingly beautiful. He heard the thunder, it sounded loud and dry without the accompanying rain. He wanted to go to his house. He was certain the monks didn't know where he lived, the people of the nearby town didn't really know. He was just Atrius, the woodsman, he came in once every couple of days to trade furs, meat, and herbs.<br/><br/>He realized how hungry he was. He had the rabbits which would be great, but required a fire. He'd eat those for dinner. He had about half a dozen dried muscles from the ocean that he liked to carry on hikes because they were small and kept well. He reached into his pack and pulled out the leather bag containing the shellfish meat. He divided the pieces in half and passed it her, "Eat, it's pretty good." He knew she probably didn't know, but he ate them to show they were good. It thundered again. The meat was tough but tasty.<br/><br/>He passed her the waterskin again to help her eat the food, "I really wish you could talk." He said. He was bored, apparently so was she, "What are you?" He said more to himself than to her. "You don't look like much, you're pretty, you can read some language... and I'm talking to myself." He sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands. "I'm getting all stabbed and cut up over you, and some thrice-damned scheme of the gods. What's more, you know something, I know you know... and you can't tell me." He sighed again and slumped against the tree.