[There's another mercy to sleep. Besides the small ways it clears his head, besides that he might dream or that she might sleep more in future and allow him to go off on his own. There's also the way it breaks up that eternal going on forever. Existence breaks down into parts, pieces. It's easier to hold in his mind. He can't better make sense of what things happened when, as opposed to the long string of things occurring otherwise, blending together into an untidy nothing.
Despite his nerves, he does manage to sleep. His dreams are less like dreams and more like choppy memories. All the same, it's something. It's broken up a little by noises that tempt him to wake up, to check, to be sure and be safe and so ruin the sleep he's managed. He has to tell himself not to.
But then she jostles the bed. He stays still for a while longer, but it's too late. He's up. He cracks his eyes open and...
She's face down. She's not breathing, not moving, and that doesn't necessarily indicate that she's asleep, but his heart almost jumps out of twinned fear and relief. Now. He has to go now. Okay...
He slips carefully from the bed, not wanting to move her, to make her stir. He's got to be quiet as he steps out and away and he's got to make this quick as possible so he can get back to her. But he's got a chance to hunt.
No rabbits for him. He's pretty sure he hit a squirrel, though, he's eaten with such fervor, he could believe it was just a rat. There's nothing left. It's agony. But, under that, it's relief. He did it. He did it. They might actually be able to do this.
He creeps back to her, to bed, and crawls on there. She's still there. He stares at her a moment, thinking she doesn't look peaceful at all, face down like that, but reaches out and brushes her hair anyway.]
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Despite his nerves, he does manage to sleep. His dreams are less like dreams and more like choppy memories. All the same, it's something. It's broken up a little by noises that tempt him to wake up, to check, to be sure and be safe and so ruin the sleep he's managed. He has to tell himself not to.
But then she jostles the bed. He stays still for a while longer, but it's too late. He's up. He cracks his eyes open and...
She's face down. She's not breathing, not moving, and that doesn't necessarily indicate that she's asleep, but his heart almost jumps out of twinned fear and relief. Now. He has to go now. Okay...
He slips carefully from the bed, not wanting to move her, to make her stir. He's got to be quiet as he steps out and away and he's got to make this quick as possible so he can get back to her. But he's got a chance to hunt.
No rabbits for him. He's pretty sure he hit a squirrel, though, he's eaten with such fervor, he could believe it was just a rat. There's nothing left. It's agony. But, under that, it's relief. He did it. He did it. They might actually be able to do this.
He creeps back to her, to bed, and crawls on there. She's still there. He stares at her a moment, thinking she doesn't look peaceful at all, face down like that, but reaches out and brushes her hair anyway.]