Lying inside the tent, Brandon stared up at the low canvas ceiling, and his mind was filled with thoughts.
Naevora ducked inside, letting the cold night air slip in behind her for a second before she closed the tent flap again.
She carried the cleaned pots in one hand, setting them quietly in the corner before moving to sit beside him on the edge of the mattress.
Brandon didn't speak at first.
He simply shifted, rolling onto his side and laying his head gently on her lap.
The bare skin of her thighs was warm beneath his cheek, and he exhaled slowly as he looked up at her.
Naevora's hand came to rest on his hair almost automatically and began patting his head.
"How long was I unconscious?"
"About… six hours," she answered, her thumb brushing lightly over his temple.
He turned his head slightly, burying his face against the warm, flat plane of her abdomen.
