Even in Noah’s thinness when they met for the first time, before any training and before any weight had been added by Elann’s food, he had already been a strong individual, surprisingly so. It was to be expected of a predator who had to secure a kill quickly before its prey got away or a struggle didn’t draw too much attention from another predator of the terrestrial kind.

Elann’s request for him to lay and calm was received and he lied there underneath her as she draped herself over him. What she was doing was what he needed; he needed the gentle shushing and the calming caresses, stilling his quickly pattering heart. His chest finally came under its usual, slow rhythm and his skin cooled all the more from the sweat. Upon waking up he was on fire, having been baked under the fur blanket by his own heat, sweat, and a heart that was throwing itself into his breastplate mercilessly. Now, he was calming, oblivious to Elann’s power being used on him.

The question came and was answered by hesitation at first. Noah wasn’t one to have night terrors, let alone dream enough to remember them. When he did dream though, he almost always knew what he was dreaming of, if it was important enough.

“You,” he answered thirstily. “You and Caesarion. I couldn’t see your faces… my legs were stuck in the grass… the wind hurt me… I couldn’t hear what you were saying… you walked away with him… struck by lightning, you two...”

It was the gist of his dream. As he recounted it, his hand slipped to her above him and grasped at the fabric of her dress again in a hold, much lighter and less forceful than before.

“Water,” he requested, swallowing dryly again.