Her eyes first land on that familiar mess of hair, now having strands sticking out of place from being tousled in sleep, or by someone elses hands, brown eyes similar to her own begin to blink away sleep as they attempt to adjust to the light, they eventually look at up at her, brows quickly furrowing together in confusion. His eyes stare blindly as it goes dim for a moment until they eventually adjust to the lighting a small lantern supplies, it sits on a polished wooden desk, far enough away from the bedding on the floor to not disturb those who are sleeping. The ones inside the tent most especially seemed to care for him, no matter the way they showed it, and so without waiting for the cold to nip him any further he steps into the tent and shuts the flaps behind him once again. But she doesn’t have to anymore, even as the creeping thoughts of everyone turning their backs on her looms heavy now, there’s people who care about her, and she forces back the dark thoughts for those far happier ones. Though she’d at least get a soothing tea as well, but again it’s not quite what she needs.Īs her hand reaches out and grabs the flaps of the tent she wonders if maybe she should head back, turn around and just trudge over to her own tent again, take care of herself like she has done for so long. She’s thankful the old woman isn’t the one on night watch tonight, certain that she’d have been getting an earful as per usual with her. So there is no use in even thinking about the warmth he might have had whilst wearing them. It’s deep in the winter season, and it hasn’t been pleasant, though he is thankful for the fur lined tights he now has, wishing he’d had them much sooner but at least they’re useful now, unfortunately he didn’t bother to get dressed, nor did he bother slipping on his shoes. It takes a moment for her to turn away, the flames are almost as old of a friend as Bernie is, but she finally breaks her sights on the light and instead she sets them onto tents further back in the camp.Īs he finally arrives in front of the tent he’s looking for, he isn’t even sure if the shaking he’s experiencing at the moment is of his own panic still or if the cold has gotten to him at this point. She doesn’t turn around, caught up in staring into the dark, though Willow has gotten good at keeping silent, even when she’s on the verge of tipping off the edge, frankly she’s glad that Winona doesn’t turn around, she doesn’t want to hear what words the woman might offer up. Instead she makes note of the Handywoman who sits in watch, keeping the fire fueled for the night. Yet he stands up, holding Bernie close to his chest and the fur blanket around his shoulders, his hand shakily reaches out and pushes the tent flaps open to reveal the lowly light of the fire, it almost calls him over, and plenty of nights he’d sit next to it to calm down, but that’s not what he’s after right now. She quickly bolts upright in the bed, almost instantly beginning to shake as her senses begin to wake up in a panic, feeling as if there might be a cold sweat slipping down her back as well though that’s the least of her concerns as her hands rise up and she quickly begins to try and brush away the tears.īernie shifts in her lap, little bear arms doing their best to hug her and to say she appreciates it would have been an understatement, but tonight is one of those nights where his comfort is only enough to keep her clinging onto sanity, not enough to calm the shaking.Īnd he doesn't want to burden anyone else, he shouldn’t need anyone else after being on his own for so long, dealing with all these things for years since he’d left that place he’d never called home.
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