A sudden yawn stretched wide the jaws of the copper-haired young woman who sat hunched beside the fire. Above the crackling flames, a small pot was set, and a savory-scented steam was rising from whatever brewed within. Dappled sunlight danced and shifted over the bare soil upon which she sat, and the balmy summer breeze whispered in the forest boughs overhead.
A low, mumbling voice was heard from somewhere over her shoulder. She turned and peered into the dark recesses of the hollowed tree. "What?" Then, to spare the person from having to try and raise their voice, she crawled on hands and knees into the shadowy hole herself.
The man lay in the same spot he had been occupying for the past week. His huge size swallowed up most of the room within the hollow, leaving her to shuffle and squirm as best she could beside him. She leaned over his supine form, squinting in the sudden darkness to make out his features. "What?" she asked again.
He rolled his head towards the sound of her voice. Thick fingers flexed against the sweat-stained undershirt that covered his chest. "Smells good," he whispered.
A quick grin tugged at her lips. "I'm making you some bone broth," she answered, keeping her voice low for the sake of the ailing man. Her hand reached over and patted his knuckles. "It'll do you good. Best thing when you've been ill."
The man strove to lift his head, grunting and puffing with the exertion. He only managed a few inches of success, before Narys slipped her hand beneath his neck to aid him. "What is it?" she asked.
He clumsily braced his elbows against the earthen floor, and in this way was able to prop himself up, though he was panting from the effort it took. "Just seeing if it's...still there," he breathed, giving a weak nod towards his leg. A pitiful excuse for a chuckle followed, making his head bob loosely on his neck.
"Oh!" she laughed, holding onto his head and shoulders as he sank back down again. "Of course it's still there! What, do you think I could saw off a man's leg on my own, even if he needed it done?" She paused then to envision this, and gave herself a good shudder before going on. "I can't account for your trousers, though. They had to go. I'm sorry about that."
The man raised a hand to feebly wave his fingers about in a dismissive gesture. "Oi. There's no worry there, miss." His voice was faint, whispery, the words coming in slow, slurry bursts. "Not the first time...a woman's seen me...without my clothes...while I was sleeping."
Narys stared down at him, and her turquoise eyes widened. “I wouldn’t know about that,” she muttered, struggling not to chuckle while her freckled cheeks went pink. Her hand moved awkwardly to adjust the lower hem of his under-drawers, tugging it a little further down his thigh, which was still somewhat swollen and bruised.
A snort came from the man’s bearded lips. “Woman as pretty as you,” he murmured. “I’m not the first man to lose his clothes around you.” His dark eyes drifted closed as if he wished to sleep.
Narys gave a sudden, bubbling burst of laughter and sat back on her bottom, wrapping her hands around her legs. “Don’t be flirting! You’re too sick for that silliness.” A few more girlish giggles worked their way up through her throat. “You just rest, all right?”
“Man doesn’t notice a pretty girl… means he’s dead,” replied her companion, without opening his eyes again. The brief conversation seemed to have exhausted what energy he had found. He breathed deeply a few times through parted lips. “Need a bath.”
“First things first,” she answered, giving his arm a firm patting. “You aren’t the first man to lose his clothes around me, nor the first to be smelly. Don’t worry. It doesn’t bother me. Keeping you alive is more important than whether or not you stink a little.”
The man’s beard twitched slightly, indicating a smile. A few seconds passed before he found the strength to utter one more thing. “Hungry.”
“Oh, aye!” she quipped brightly, unfolding herself to crawl back out into the fresh air and golden sunlight. “Coming right up!”
