Terror still clung to him like sodden clothes, his hands gripping either side of the water basin when she approached. He had not heard her when she rose, nor did he hear her when she called out his name. When her hand touched his shoulder he whipped around, eyes wild and terrified and his heart hammering so hard in his chest that it made his vision blur and spot.
At first his face was naked with his fear and vulnerability, and he did not recognize her. But as he slowly came back into the reality of the waking world and the dream, if that was what it had been, slipped away again leaving only the shadow of acknowledgment behind.
He turned from her to hide his face, only to feel her wrap her arms around his stomach. He relaxed into them, breathing slowing down from the dramatic panicked pant. It hitched in his throat as the face of his birth mother flitted back through his mind, though he could not remember her significance anymore. This... This is why he never slept much.
As his breathing returned to normal, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel the heavy beating of her heart against his back. Something he knew he should not be aware of. She was startled and concerned, he could tell, and some sick part of his cursed blood relished in it. Fed on the fear. He looked up towards the opening in the ceiling, seeing the soft gray fog of morning from above. "Sorry fer the abrupt morning wake up, lass..." He squeezed her hands, his own trembling. "Hopefully I didn't keep y'up with my... rambunctious sleep habit." He coughed to clear his throat, which was wispy and tight still.
"Think y'can get yerself and a pack ready? We ought t'head out shortly."
