Dauria watched the human in the darkness from across the hide tent. His face was relaxed, if pale. His breath was even, his chest rising and falling in the slow, even rhythm of deep sleep.
Am I going mad? Or did I see what I think I saw? What could it even mean?
Closing her eyes, Dauria tried to force herself into the realm of sleep, but it would not come. She tossed and turned, her mind filling its internal view with a hundred-thousand images of what the man could be, what he could be hiding.
If any one of those imaginings were true, she couldn’t fathom what he could be doing there. Did she still believe he had found her by happenstance? Or was there something larger, something darker at work here?
There’s an easy way to find out, she thought, eyes...
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