The warmth of the man's hand, on her back, in her own hand, helping her back into the sand, was comforting. As she plopped himself aside her, Nayru reached with tiny, slender fingers for his own hand that was free from the cigarette. Lacing her own hand with his did not feel strange, as it might have with another. Nothing between her and Razekiel had felt strange, from the very first day they had met. It had perhaps been fate that had led the child into the man's presence what seemed like so long ago, and fate that had brought them together to create a pack. Perhaps then it was always fate that brought them together again.
Oh, it's not as bad as all that. Nayru loathed the thought of taking any amount of time off from her duties, even if it were only a few days. Only when her head had been sliced open by her own glass roof has she allowed herself to rest. And then the rest had grown into a deep depression. How useless she had felt laying in bed, and even more so the longer she did so. Yet once the cycle had been set in motion it had proven difficult to stop. The lady had removed herself from Dahlia then and the fear of such a depression taking her again kept the woman in constant movement most days. I only feel sick some of the time…
Cherry eyes turned up to Razekiel, eying the smoke that came twisting from his lips. Nayru remembered as a child partaking with him, how pleasant it had felt. Perhaps then it would ease her illness now. Then she laughed at her own thought, wondering how strange it was that she still could laugh when so violently sick moments ago. It's funny but even with how sick I am, I only wish to eat. My hunger is truly insatiable these days. And was it showing? Nayru thought perhaps she seemed only the tiniest bit bigger, around her waistline, but it was hard to tell just then.
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