[i]"Can... Can I help you with something?"[/i] A small voice pulled Shayre back from his thoughts, and as he looked at their source he saw the blond haired girl smiling nervously at him. She had been quiet the entire way, never crying nor giving up as she had helped him support, and sometimes even carry, the wounded girl. From the quick glances he had given her over the course of the day, he knew she hadn't been fine however. Normally he would have talked to her, trying to get her eyes that were unnaturally widely opened to relax. But he hadn't had time to do so, busy as he had been with getting them all away from danger. It seemed however that time alone had healed the girl from her shock, as she looked more relaxed now, although she was visibly shy. She was playing with the hem of her dress, looking up at him with a mixture of expectancy and something what looked like fear.

He smiled at her, grateful for her offer. [i]"We will be staying here for the night... I suppose we should make ourselves some mattresses out of moss, and if you by any chance know how to make a fire, that would be even better."[/i]
The girl nodded quickly, turning around without saying a word as she started pulling moss out of the ground. She looked happy to be doing something, and perhaps that was the best thing in their situation. With that in mind, Shayre walked towards one of the fruits and picked it, standing still for a moment before he dared to take a bite. When he broke through the skin, the juices started running out, and its sweet taste almost convinced him that it couldn't be bad for him. Still, a part of his brain reminded him of the danger of eating too much of an unknown plant, so he put the fruit down, although it cost him most of his willpower.
Now he had to wait until the next day, to see if he got sick. Still, they were all parched, or at least he was, and they needed something to drink. Looking at the moss again, he kneeled down to gather some that was especially heavy with dew, squeezing it above his head, trying to catch the running water in his mouth. The water tasted a bit... Well mossy would probably be the best choice of words. But it quenched his thirst, and was as clean as water would probably be around here. With renewed energy, he returned to the rest, to see how the wounded girl was doing.

She was crying and laughing because of the pain, while trying to clean her leg. [i]"I'm sorry"[/i] She said it as if she was trying to apologize for crying, as if she thought he would get mad at her. He smiled at her once again, showing her that he didn't mind. Truth was, even if he had minded, he wasn't in the mood to be mad at anyone, was too tired for conflict. All he wanted right now was to sleep, but he couldn't yet. They should have a fire, or some other way to keep warm. He still had a wound to clean...
[i]"Don't worry, I haven't cleaned my own wound yet, and I'm sure I will cry if I start that too..."[/i]
He wasn't sure what he should do, keep up an appearance of strength, so she would feel like she could rely on him, or tell her that he felt just as lost, to make her feel less bad about herself. The truth was that he dreaded cleaning his own wound. He wouldn't be able to see what he was doing, and he was sure he would mess things up. Besides, the last thing they needed right now was him crying from pain like the girl was right now.